Rise of the Tau'ri
by cast2007
Summary: Post Season Ten. The Ori have arrived to the Milky Way galaxy. The Stargate program has been revealed to the public and Earth has been attacked. Let loose the dogs of war.
1. Prologue

Authors Note: Stargate SG-1 and its associated characters, plots, vehicles and all other intellectual properties belong to Brad Wright, Jonathan Glassner, MGM and all other members/entities associated with the SG-1 and Atlantis franchise. Although it would be nice to own them, or realistically be an extra in an episode or two in either of the two shows sometime.

Original characters in this novel are completely from my imagination and any resemblance to anyone past or present is completely coincidental and strictly by chance.

Prologue

* * *

**January 30 2008**

In the cool, emotionless and forever tranquil void of space around the first Lagrange Point around the planet Earth, a Terran Navy shuttle drifted slowly but steadily to its intended destination.

In the shuttle's crapped passenger bay, Captain Rodger Collingsworth of the Terran Federal Navy, formerly of the Royal Navy sat in one of its few seats. He stared intently with his hazel eyes through the shuttle's four-inch thick glass-like viewing window into the nothingness between the stars.

Before his eyes, suited spaceyard workers in zero gravity attire and their comrades in thickly armored spacecraft construction vehicles hovered around 30 massive metal constructs in various stages of completion and readiness.

The one closest to the shuttle was in its final stages of construction and its launching and immediate subsequent commissioning would be in the very new future. The name TFNS_ Heihachiro Togo_ and its hull classification BC- 4were painted clearly on its hull for all to see. This was to be his new command.

As the fourth ship of the _Daedalus_-class and the first of the Second Flight of hybrid Battlecruisers/Carriers, it represented the pinnacle of Terran engineering and determination to fight the war against the Ori. At 335 meters long and requiring over 1,000 personnel to operate, it was two meters longer than an American _Nimitz_-class aircraft carrier and was one of the biggest vessels ever made. Armed and equipped with numerous electromagnetic railguns emplaced on various places along it hull, with BSGM-109 (1) missiles equipped with naquahdah enhanced nuclear warheads, and with sixteen F-302 Mongoose (2) strike fighters stationed in its port and starboard fighter bays, with the addition to shields and hyperdrive technology given by the Asgard, one of their alien allies; it was by far the most technologically advanced and deadly warship ever to be produced by Terran hands.

As he admired his soon-to-be command, he began to reflect upon recent events over the last couple of months that seemed centuries ago. Six months ago if someone had told him that he would be commanding a space Battlecruiser with the latest and greatest technology in order to fight a race of enigmatic aliens and their followers, he would have assumed that the person had too much ale to drink in the pub and would have dismissed it as drunken nonsense.

At forty-one years old and already a Captain in the Royal Navy, he was widely regarded as one of the Navy's rising stars and a likely candidate for Flag Rank. As the Captain of the HMS _Turbulent_, a _Trafalgar_-class nuclear attack submarine, he was an expert tactician and commander who was widely admired by his superiors, colleagues and subordinates alike. In 2003, he and his crew participated in Operation Telic and had been one of the first in the history of the Royal Navy to fire the BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missiles in anger against enemy targets in Iraq. After returning to England after completing his mission, he and his crew had earned a commendation for their work.

Despite his professional career, he was a bachelor who currently had no time for a relationship due to the constraints of being a naval submarine captain. However, he did have two teenage nephews and one niece still in primary school from his brother's side of the family in Devon and treasured them dearly, spoiling them rotten with gifts and presents every time he visited on occasion and thus was their favorite if only Uncle.

Life was good. Until the Ori came.

He had been on shore leave in London when the attack came and could only watch helplessly unable to do anything as the aliens attacked his home.

Earth and its allies fought fiercely against the Ori, throwing everything they had against their foes. F-302s crewed by Russian, British, French, Chinese, Canadian and American pilots in dispersed airfields around the world and the severely wounded _Odyssey _with the survivors off of the destroyed _Korolev_ with the addition of a hastily assembled fleet of Asgard, Tok'ra and Free Jaffa vessels did their best to fight off the alien threat.

They had driven them off, but at great cost. The death toll was an appallingly high number of 60 million more than the total amount of Soviet deaths both military and civilian during the _entire_ Second World War. Luckily for him, his niece and nephews were safe, and were in their respective boarding schools. However his brother and sister in law were not so fortunate and were taking a short holiday on the continent.

The cities of Seattle, San Francisco, Rome, Shanghai, Damascus, Prague, Jerusalem and Sydney had been wiped off the map and smoking craters now occupied where the once great cities as if they had never existed. Others such as New York, Dresden, Shenyang, and Cairo still stood but were mere shadows of their former selves.

In the following wake after the battle, the governments of Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, France, the People's Republic China, and the Russian Federation were forced to reveal the existence of the Stargate program to the public.

The public's reaction was at first of disbelief, since they believed that they were the only race to inhabit the universe, thus dismissing the existence of aliens. The fact idea that Earth or anyone else for that matter possessed interstellar warships that could travel light-years in just mere minutes was absurd to most of the public since NASA; the world's leading space agency stated that even a return to the moon would be implemented in 2020 at the very earliest and that a flight to Mars would be far off into future and would take months if not years to complete.

However soon disbelief turned into something entirely different. Rage. Humans are a temperamental lot, often deciding what to do based on their emotions as opposed to pure logic. Right now they were furious. Extremely so.

With sixty million of their fellow citizens were dead and with countless others were wounded in varying degrees. The people of Earth had one thing on their mind— revenge.

In addition to being one of the most violent of all emotions hate is also the most unifying. For the timeless maxim "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" did not come out of nowhere.

In response to the attack, the national governments of Earth faded into the history books and the Terran Federal Republic was born out of the military coalition between China, France, Canada, the UK, the Russian Federation, and the US. Immediately during its first convention, its delegates unanimously voted upon a formal Declaration of War against the Ori.

The newly formed Terran Federal Military had made construction of the BC-304 _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers its utmost priority, increasing production of these ships from 3 a year to 30 thus raising production by _1000_ percent.

Quickly, the newly formed Navy announced that was looking for personnel both officers and enlisted to operate them. They didn't need to ask twice.

Collingsworth, like countless millions of other naval personnel had jumped at the chance to be a part of the force that would avenge his loved ones and would have done anything to be a part of it. Hell, he'd even accept being busted down to a Sub-Lieutenant if it would guarantee him a billet.

However it didn't need to come to that. After seeing his service record, the Navy had decided to send him to the newly created Starship Prospective Commanding Officer's school located in Hokkaido, the northernmost island in the Japanese islands for further evaluation and training.

Leaving his brother's children in the care of his elderly parents, who were more than glad to take care of them. He took the first flight to Hokkaido on the first plane available. And for the last four months the recently promoted (3) Rear Admiral Paul Emerson, the former Commander of the _Odyssey_ along with a cadre made up of survivors of the _Daedalus_ and _Korolev _had been ruthlessly teaching he and sixty other Commanding Officer candidates how to operate a Battlecruiser in a zero-g environment.

Collingsworth had thrown himself at the task; devoting his mind, body and soul and every second of every day of every week to learning all the instructors had to offer. His efforts had paid off and had graduated at the top of his class. The brass, impressed with both his record and conduct decided to reward him with command of the _Vigilance_ the first ship to come off of Terran yards after the attack.

"Attention. We will be docking with the _Vigilance _shortly. ETA five minutes or less," the pilot informed shuttle's occupants, bringing the Captain's mind back to the present and to the task at hand.

* * *

"Captain, Terran Federal Navy arriving!" the Marine sentry announced loudly on the ship's communications network as he entered the wardroom aboard the _Vigilance_.

The Vigilance's senior officers and chiefs quickly came to attention behind their chairs as their superior officer, and soon-to-be Captain came through the hatch.

"At ease ladies and gentlemen," he quickly ordered the crew, his clipped formal English accent coming more and more apparent, a sign that he was either stressed or in deep thought. He really wanted to get this over with the formalities and get to work and familiarize himself with the ship and its crew.

He quickly walked to the end of the table and reached into one of shirt pockets and brought out of sheet of paper and addressed the officers and chiefs assembled. "Ladies and Gentlemen lets make this quick so we can get down to business, here are my orders." He began to read "From NAVPERSCOM (Naval Personnel Command) to Captain Rodger Collingsworth, TFN. You are hereby ordered to report for duty as the commanding officer of TFNS_ Heihachiro Togo,_ BC-4. You will relieve the acting commanding officer and will retain permanent command of the vessel until further notice.' "

He then abruptly spun on heel and turned to face the starship's temporary commanding officer, a Japanese man in his late thirties or early forties, wearing rank tabs on his collar and three golden stripes on his sleeve that identified him as a Commander.

Collingsworth then executed a stiff and formal salute. "Commander Fujimaki, I am ready to relieve you, sir."

Fujimaki then saluted back in the same manner and replied in a slight Japanese accent, "I am ready to be relieved."

"I relieve you sir," Collingsworth said as he saluted the Commander for the last time, as he officially became the senior and commanding officer aboard the _Vigilance_.

"I stand relieved," Commander Shiro Fujimaki formerly of the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force replied formally as he for the first time saluted his commanding officer, thus completing the formal change of command ceremony.

"Mr. Fujimaki, effective immediately you are now the XO aboard this vessel. Ms. Williamson as of now you are the Chief Engineer," Collingsworth said as he addressed the Commander and the Australian officer, wearing the insignia of a Lieutenant Commander right next to him.

"Aye aye, sir," both said simultaneously as they were given their new orders.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, now addressing the entire ship's company of officers and chiefs. "Now that the formalities are now over, let's get down to business. I want a full status report on every nook and cranny aboard this ship."

Quickly his subordinates got into their seats and awaited further instructions from their CO.

"Commander Fujimaki what is the overall status of the _Heihachiro Togo_?"

"Currently the hull is 95 complete. All officers and senior enlisted personnel except for the embarked fighter group have arrived. 85 of the enlisted personnel are also currently on board. The rest of the enlisted personnel will arrive shortly within the next week. The ship is scheduled to be launched and immediately commissioned within two weeks at most and will be ready to commence naval operations, sir," Fujimaki replied in an efficient businesslike manner.

"Excellent job Commander." According to his personnel file, Fujimaki been the executive officer of a _Kongo_-class destroyer and was a fourth-generation naval officer whose ancestors had served in the Imperial Japanese Navy since the Battle of Tsushima under Admiral Togo and later on in the Maritime Self-Defense Force. However despite his family's excellent record and heritage as Naval Officers, he had not seen actual combat before and this worried Collingsworth. He then turned to the department heads aboard the starship. "What is the status on the weapons?" he inquired of the officer in charge of the weapons on board.

"Port railguns have completed construction. Starboard railguns are 70 complete and will be completed within the next week," Lieutenant Commander Andres Drossier replied. A former weapons officer on a _Rubis_-class nuclear submarine, he had seen combat in both Bosnia and Afghanistan and according to his personnel file was cool-headed and competent, traits that were essential to a good naval officer.

"And the BSGM-109 missiles?" Collingsworth knew that the railguns were most likely to be effective against any small fighter craft employed by the enemy but according to initial combat reports submitted after engaging Ori capital ships, the railguns would have little or no effect against the Ori behemoths.

His only hope against any enemy capital ships that he would most likely encounter would be in the form of the new missiles, which had a bigger naquahdah-enhanced nuclear warhead than its predecessor the Mark IV. Hopefully these new missiles would be able to crack those damn near invincible Ori shields.

"Currently the launchers have been completed. However the missiles are at this moment stationed dirt-side and will arrive within the next week _Mon Capitaine_." The Lieutenant Commander replied using the newly formed Terran Navy slang for objects that were stationed on planet as opposed to space.

"How's the main reactor functioning?" Collingsworth asked his chief engineer.

"The naquahdah reactors have been put in and are functioning at 100 percent capacity sir," Lieutenant Commander Jessica Williamson replied.

"Have there been any problems at all?" Collingsworth asked concerned about the safety of both his ship and crew. He had been around reactors for the majority of his career in the Royal Navy and knew what untold and nightmarish horrors could happen if a reactor began to malfunction. The reactor aboard the _Vigilance_ utilizes an experimental reactor made by Terran engineers just a couple of months ago, thus was many times more powerful than any plutonium or uranium isotope based reactor made him very nervous. The fact that the reactor was based off of alien design did not reassure him the slightest.

"None sir, not at all," Williamson reassured him.

"Good. Let's keep it that way, Commander. Lieutenant Van Gelder what is the status on the RADAR and LIDAR systems?" Collingsworth asked the officer in charge of all of the combat systems aboard this ship.

"The LIDAR system has been installed and is working perfectly. Currently we still have some bugs in the LIDAR system but the problems are expected to be resolved within the next week sir," Erik Van Gelder, the combat systems officer replied.

"Status on the star charts navigator?"

"Star charts have been fully installed in the navigational database and are working perfectly _Herr Kapitän_," Lieutenant, formerly _Stabskapitänleutnant_ of the Deutsche Marine Hans Krieger replied.

"Perfect. Major Sook, the condition of your detachment?"

"My men are perfectly fine. Every single member of the detachment knows the layout of _Vigilance _perfectly and they are ready to give any unwelcome visitors a warm and friendly reception," Major Sook Jin-Tae replied with a cold smile that fooled no one.

Collingsworth shivered momentarily at the Major's statement and couldn't help but feel the slightest amount of pity to those stupid enough to board this ship. The South Korean Marines had a reputation of being one of the most deadly fighting forces in the world and Major Sook was no doubt a direct and perfect personification of this.

"How about your equipment?" Collingsworth wanted to know if the Marine detachment needed anything. If the shit hit the fan and his ship was boarded by hostiles, he wanted the Marines to have the best equipment possible at their disposal.

"Currently we have been issued with Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine guns. The weapons are fine weapons, however ballistics tests indicate that they do not have adequate lethality to breach the personal armor of either Jaffa Warriors or Terran ground personnel short of using hollow point ammunition or emptying half the weapon's magazine. Although we have not seen examples of Ori personal armor, I would like to be on the safe side and replace the MP-5s in the armory with the newly issued MP-7 Personal Defense Weapons, which has better stopping power and a bigger magazine than the former," the South Korean replied.

"Permission granted. Do whatever you need to do in order to keep any sudden 'guests' off of our property.

Collingsworth turned to the officer in charge of the fighter group "Commander Kearns, the condition of your embarked F-302 Mongoose squadron?"

"VF-84 is currently stationed on Luna at the moment and are finishing their space combat training. They'll be ready to join us and begin flight operations shortly after commissioning," Commander William "Dog" Kearns replied. A career naval aviator, he had logged thousands of hours flying F-14s, F/A-18C/Ds and later the F/A18E/F Super Hornets over the last twenty years. Throughout his career, he had seen it all from participating in Operation Desert Storm as a young Lieutenant (j.g) to serving as a Top Gun instructor at NAS Fallon to finally becoming a squadron commander serving in both Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom. He was one of the best there was and according to comments from his peers knew and believed it. Hence the call sign "Dog" which was God spelled in reverse.

"Master Chief Molotov the status and morale on the enlisted personnel?" Collingsworth asked the senior noncommissioned officer in charge of all personnel serving aboard the ship.

"Captain the men are performing admirably and are willing and ready to fight. It would be safe to say that most of them are chomping at the bit to kill those alien _zasranecs_." The senior NCO smiled as he reported to his Captain while using his native Russian to mark his hatred of the Ori.

"That's good to know Master Chief." Collingsworth paused and addressed the assembled officers and the senior NCOs. "Ladies and gentlemen thank you for your time. We'll reconvene at 0900 hours GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) tomorrow. Dismissed."

As they all left the wardroom, Collingsworth couldn't help but to feel a sense of satisfaction. For the first time in a year, things were looking up.

Authors Note: Shinobi wizard chapter five will be coming out soon. I haven't abandoned the story but the rate of writing chapters has slowed down due to SAT I Reasoning and AP tests coming out soon.

I also need a beta reader for this story. Knowledge of Stargate SG-1 Series and Atlantis with the addition of modern military systems and units is required.

(1) The _Daedalus_, _Odyssey_ and the _Korolev_ were equipped with the Mark IV naquahdah-enhanced nuclear missile. It was clear that the missiles were useless since they couldn't pierce the shields of the Ori Battlecruisers in 'Camelot,' in Season Nine so logically the USAF and later the Terran military would probably make a newer and stronger missile in the hopes of inflicting damage against the enemy since the Mark IV's effect on the enemy is equal to blowing a spit ball against a tank

(2) The US military has a tradition of naming its aircraft and vehicles with nicknames and since the series did not mention a moniker for the F-302, I made one up myself.

(3) I know that Paul Emerson is a Colonel in the USAF the series but in the story I made it so that the Navy not the Air Force would operate any vessels in space. Thus I gave Emerson a Naval Rank as opposed to an Army/Air Force/Marine Corps stylized rank.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N See Prologue

* * *

**February 23 2008 Geneva, Switzerland President's Office**

"All right ladies and gentlemen, what are our options at the moment to deal with the Ori at the moment? The legislature and the public are both clamoring for action and are beginning to lose faith in this administration." Henry Hayes, former President of the United States and now the first and hopefully not the last President of the Terran Federal Republic asked his cabinet assembled in front of him.

"Well sir, we have a couple of options in front of us," General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill, the newly appointed Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff replied.

"Well, get on with it. I don't have all day," he instructed irately. The President sighed, calming down "Sorry, about that Jack, please continue." The last year had not been kind to the President, who had not only the daunting task of leading a newborn one-world government but also had to deal like countless millions, the loss of his family.

"Currently we have 25 out of 30 Battlecruisers completed and operational from our shipyard in New Norfolk and are currently conducting live fire exercises in the asteroid belt. The last 5 are in the last phases in construction and are due to be launched within the next three to four weeks," O'Neil replied using the official name for the orbital construction facility in the first Lagrange Point. "We could send a task force consisting of five to nine ships to reinforce the Free Jaffa Fleet defending their capitol planet."

"You're suggesting that we send nearly half of our current Navy _away_ from Sol. This is unacceptable, we need our ships here at home to defend in case of another attack, not at some other solar system light years away!" Ettore Abarano, former Italian Parliament Member and now Terran Federal Minister of Health interjected angrily.

"Mr. Abarano if the Jaffa lose their capitol, this entire fucking galaxy looses this goddamn war! The Jaffa are our only major ally at this time and if they loose Dakara, then they'll be knocked out of the fight for good!"

"General O'Neill your fears are overstated. Why can't the Jaffa just go to another planet to reform the government on another planet? Surely they have more than one?"

"Minister Abarano, General O'Neill please, can you two stop this bickering. You two have been going at it each other's throats for the last six months. Can't you two see that we're on the same side?" George Hammond, Minister of Defense asked the two men, exasperated at their frequent bickering.

"General O'Neill please continue with your assessment and Minister Abarano hold off your comments until he is done," President Hayes ordered the two senior officials.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, each of our _Daedalus-_class carriers carry sixteen F-302 Mongoose strike fighters. The task force will contain a total of 80 to 144 Mongooses, depending on the total amount of Battlecruisers in the task force."

"Will the committing of those Battlecruisers severely hamper our ability to defend Earth from alien attack?"

"Actually not Mr. President. The technology given to us by our more advanced allies, the Asgard and Tok'ra have begun to be fully implemented onto our military-industrial base across the board and production is at its highest," Admiral Alan Hastings, Chief of Naval Operations of the Terran Navy and formerly of the British Royal Navy, the Navy's senior uniformed officer replied.

Immediately after the bombardment of Terra, one of the first acts of the newly founded Terran Federal Republic was to request the distribution of advanced technology from its more advanced allies, especially that of the Asgard.

Initially the Asgard along with the Tok'ra were both very resistant to this idea. The Asgard did not want to break the Protected Planets Treaty that it had established with the now defunct Goa'uld System Lords and were especially uneasy about giving their weapons technology to anyone. The Tok'ra were also in opposition to this idea because of their uneasiness about Terran possession of advanced technology due to the very warlike tendency of the Terrans as shown throughout their history.

However a certain Irish-American General from SG-1 by the name of Jonathan O'Neill, pissed off at his long-time allies' refusal bluntly reminded the Asgard High Council that they "owed Earth big time" and told them that if the Ori won the war in this galaxy than they would be next, much to the consternation and dismay of the diplomatic staff sent to the Asgard homeworld.

After listening to O'Neill, the Asgard although with great reluctance decided to give the tall, hair-covered _Homo Sapiens Sapiens _from Earth full access to all of their technology, except for that of their most advanced weapons, which they logically did not want the Terrans to possess in case the Terrans decided to turn on them sometime in the future.

This was due to the fact that the Asgard acknowledged that if the Ori were able to conquer or even control parts of the Milky Way Galaxy, the balance of power would shift away from their allies and instead turn towards the newly arrived Ori. This would detrimental to Asgard interests in the Milky Way.

If not stopped, the Ori after conquering the Milky Way would be able to use their newly conquered galaxy as a springboard for the invasion of the Asgard's own galaxy and would force the Asgard into fighting a war that they could not win.

He continued with the details, "Our shipyard, New Norfolk in Lagrange Point One is currently building ships at the rate of one ship every week (1) and the completion of its sister shipyard, New Portsmouth in the second Lagrange Point in three months will double our ship-building capacity. The _Montana, _(2) the first of our battleships along with her sister ships _Alsace-Lorraine, _and _York_ have been laid down and all are to be completed in a week. _Simon Bolivar_, our first Supercarrier is also due to be complete in a two. In addition our Fleet Base orbiting around Lagrange Point Three is operational although only 20 complete. Design plans for the rest of the third-generation of Terran space warships are due to be completed and sent to the yards for construction by September. In addition our factories in China, Europe and North America are producing around 16 F-302s per day. Furthermore, officials from Lockheed Martin (3) have informed us that the F-302A, an energy cannon equipped variant of the F-302 with the addition of incorporating many improvements over the original model is in the last phases of testing and are slated for mass production in three months."

"Although our defensive capabilities can be easily recouped, will our ability to detect a possible Ori incursion into Sol be impaired by sending so many ships?" Geng Li Wei, (4) Minister of the Interior asked.

"Our deep space senor net of this solar system is complete and Luna base, the central nerve center is functional although the structure is not totally complete. If any ship Ori or otherwise enters this system, we'll know it within five minutes and can respond accordingly. The new Orbital Weapons Platforms jointly designed by Boeing and Dassault are in production and the first five have been completed positioned around geosynchronous orbit above key San Diego, London, Beijing, La Paz and Johannesburg and are able to supplement our Naval warships defending Sol," General Mikhail Timoshenko, former Russian Air Defense Officer and current Chief of Staff of the Space Force, the successor service to the pre-bombardment Air Force replied.

Under the new Terran Federal government, the Armed Forces had undergone a complete restructuring. This had gone through as smoothly as possible given the circumstances, although there was some resistance by senior officers across the world.

The Army would be responsible for all operations within a planetary atmosphere, which now included atmospheric support by atmospheric fighters which was administered by a semi independent Army Air Corps and with the reluctance of many Naval Officers, aquatic operations in planetary oceans and lakes as well.

The newly instated Space Navy controlled all mobile units in space ranging from the F-302 Mongoose fighter to the mighty capital starships and was the primary offensive arm and first line of defense in the Terran Military.

The Air Force, now renamed the Space Force would assume control of all _fixed _installations in space such as Orbital Weapons Platforms, Heavy Orbital Defense Fortresses, and early warning deep space sensor outposts. The only mobile assets under their command would be the be the Strategic Long-Range Bomber Force, still under development. However, this excluded Fleet Bases and Repair Yards, which were under the control of the Navy for obvious reasons.

However the Marine Corps changed very little with the exception that they were now tasked to serve the Navy's warships and garrison the Space Forces' Orbital Fortresses in space. In addition to the sea, air, land operations that they were used to they were now expected to execute combat operations along with supporting their fellow service branches across battlefields light-years away from Earth.

"All right Jack, you have my permission to release 7 and only 7 Battlecruisers and their embarked fighters to Dakara," Hayes ordered.

"Rodger that. No more than seven. I'll send out the orders immediately to organize a task force," O'Neill responded. "Sir, there is still the question of Chulak. We need to reinforce the Jaffa garrison defending the planet," he continued.

"Are you saying that we need to send more ships from Sol?" Hayes asked skeptically, who was already nervous about sending part of the Navy to another system.

"No sir. We need ground troops, Soldiers and Marines."

"General O'Neill, why is that so?" the President asked.

"Sir, the space fleet guarding Chulak, one of the Jaffa Free Nations biggest population centers was wiped out four weeks ago. The Jaffa forces of around 100,000 warriors stationed dirt side on Chulak have been fighting an intensive atmospheric defensive battle against Ori ground forces for the last four weeks. Losses are around 50 wounded and 30 killed with thousands dead or dying each day; their morale is starting to slip and the planet will fall within the month if we do not relieve the garrison."

"Are you suggesting that we send in ground troops to assist our allies in an star system light years away. How are we going to send the troops? I do not believe that the Navy currently has the capacity to send a large portion of troops to Chulak?" the President replied.

"Mr. President we want to send the 8th Army (5) through the Stargate to reinforce the Jaffa forces."

"Preposterous! We can't commit over 80,000 soldiers, to fight so far away. Aren't they needed at home?" Abarano exclaimed.

"Currently the Army has 50 million soldiers under arms right now with thousands more are joining every day. However, the majority of these soldiers are currently in Army installations in North America, Asia and Europe undergoing basic training and will not be fully operational until the next year. As of now we have five effective Field Armies with roughly 80,000 to 120,000 assigned to each one; the First Army which is overseeing the training and instruction of newly inducted personnel, the Third Army which is deployed in the Middle East helping to maintain order and undergoing humanitarian operations to assist the civilians living there, the Sixth Army is stationed in Africa doing the same thing as well as the Seventh in South America. However the Eighth Army is currently in the Fulda Gap, which remarkably resembles the local flora and fauna of Chulak conducting exercises in preparation for operations across the galaxy," reported General Lee Xiao San, Chief of Staff of the Army.

"The Eight Army as well as the other Army Units is completely _American_ formations!" Abarano retorted angry at what he believed to be another American attempt to control an international affairs once again.

"Actually not Minister. Although it has been confusing, the entire Army has been integrated with all units possessing the same equipment and following the same doctrines and tactics. In the Eighth Army, The German 10th Armored Division now known as the 17th Armored Division and the Israeli Golani Brigade now categorized as the 14th Armored Calvary Regiment have been attached to the III Corps. Two Chinese Mechanized Infantry Divisions now termed the 107th and 108th(6) along with the UK 1st Armored, now renamed the 18th Armored have been attached to the I Corps. The Canadian Princess Patricia's Light Infantry Regiment now known as the 1st Brigade of the newly formed 109th Infantry Division (Light), with the Australian 1st, 2nd, and 6th Infantry Regiments (7) and the 95th Rifle Regiment "Royal Green Jackets" making up of the 2nd and 3rd Brigades of the said division have been attached to the XVIII Airborne Corps."

"You mentioned the Corps, what part are they going to play?" asked the President. Who was a veteran of the Corps and had served in Vietnam as a Second Lieutenant during the Tet offensive in '68. (8)

"The First Marine Division from Camp Pendleton has been attached to the 8th Army in order to supplement its forces and have been equipped to the same equipment as their Army counterparts and have been participated in the 8th Army's field exercises since day one," answered General James Johnson, Commandant of the Marine Corps.

"How long will it take to send all of those troops through the Stargate?" Hayes asked, wondering how so many troops and equipment could be sent through a metal circle 22 feet in diameter to a distant battlefield trillions of miles away from Earth.

"Two weeks. With our current airlift capacity it will take us one week to transport all of the equipment and troops from Germany to Iceland, where a secondary Stargate has been positioned. While we are transporting our troops midway across the Atlantic, the Army Corps of Engineers on both sides of the gate here and on Chulak are going to be constructing heavy cranes and other equipment to allow tanks and other heavy units such as helicopters and armored vehicles to pass through the gate. Once the Eighth Army is assembled in Iceland, we will start to send units through the Stargate. The longest a Stargate can maintain a stable wormhole at a time is 38 Minutes, which is enough time to send an Infantry Brigade or an Armored Battalion to Chulak at a time. If we allow 22 minutes between dialing periods to allow the gate to cool off, and dial 24 times a day the 8th Army and its support elements will arrive in full force on March 10h two weeks from tomorrow. However, their air support will be limited for approximately three weeks and we expect to be ready to send more reinforcements from earth within the next month to a month and a half," concluded the Army General.

"Why the lack of air support?" asked Hayes puzzled at the lack of mention of any aircraft in the military's plan to support the Jaffa.

"Two factors sir. The first is the Stargate, the Stargate with a diameter of twenty-two feet, is barely big enough to be able to send tanks, transport helicopters such as the UH-60 Blackhawk, CH-47 Chinook, and the CH-53 Sea Knight and helicopter gunships such as the AH-64 Apache, Mi-28 Havoc and the Ka-50 Hokum. However with most military aircraft having a wingspan of over thirty feet, fighters and attack aircraft such as the F/A-18, Su-27, F-16, A-10, Su-25 and Mig-29 won't fit. To get these fighters to Chulak, we have to partially disassemble them here on Earth, send them through the gate and then reassemble them on Chulak, a process that takes massive amounts of time, energy and personnel. Secondly, most atmospheric fighters are designed to take off and land on a runway of over a thousand feet, which on Chulak there are none and will take a couple of weeks for our combat engineers to build just one airfield capable of housing 20 to 30 fighters," explained Major General Samantha Carter-O'Neill, O'Neill's Chief of Staff and wife.

"What about F-302s? I thought that they were modular and could be taken apart and put back together very easily?" asked Hayes, as he recalled one of the briefings that the military had given to him as President of the US some years ago.

"The F-302 strike fighter is superb fighter, and a very efficient one at that. However the F-302 is in very short supply right now and we only have a hundred or so fighter squadrons to defend all of our assets in this system. With the deployment of 7 of the force already, we simply cannot spare sending the numbers of F-302s needed to mount an adequate ground campaign that will require that we send over three hundred units. Also the F-302 is designed to be an aerospace superiority strike fighter and lacks sufficient air to ground capability that the other craft mentioned do."

"What of our other human allies? Have they offered any assistance for the war effort?"

"Both the Pangarans and the Langarans have pledged support for the war, in forms of troops, production and monetary funds, however they have some conditions that need to be addressed," answered Elena Suarez, the Foreign Minister.

Hayes nodded, he had been in politics long enough to know that support or aid always came with strings attached from the one giving the said service.

"What do they want in return for their assistance?"

"Both the Pangarans and the Langarans want more of our modern military hardware. In the near future they wish to acquire plans and licenses to produce their own copies."

"Alright then, lets give them some of our surplus Cold War equipment," answered the President, eager to get rid of the numerous military cast offs in warehouses and boneyards all around the planet.

"Unfortunately Mr. President, that currently cannot be done. Their military attachés stationed at their respective embassies here on Earth have taken a good look at our military technology and have informed their superiors of the differences between first-rate Terran military equipment and that of twenty years ago."

"What exactly do they want from us?"

"The Pangarans and the Langarans have jointly requested a hefty list of equipment."

"Lets hear it then."

"For starters, they want 200 Su-27 Atmospheric Fighters, 300 Leopard 2 Main Battle Tanks, 75 M1096 Paladin 155mm Self-Propelled howitzers, 500 Marder Infantry Fighting Vehicles, 100 Eurocopter Tiger Attack Helicopters and over 30,000 G36 assault rifles with ample ammunition to go along with it"

"Is that list the total amount of equipment for our allies?" Hayes eyebrows shot up in worry he hadn't been an active-duty Marine for years but knew that the list given to him would be enough to arm an entire Mechanized Division and more than ten squadrons of Fighters.

"No, Mr. President. That list is for _each_ allied nation."

"General would giving the Langarans and Pangarans the military equipment that they asked for, put our own arsenal at unacceptable level?"

"Sir, actually not. In fact giving them all that equipment at the moment would be the best thing possible for us sir."

"Please explain why," Hayes confused at the General's pronouncement.

"Currently for the last year, in order to simplify logistics the military has decided to only field one combat system for each vehicle class. As of now, the Army has designated the M1 Abrams Main Battle Tanks, M2/3 Bradley IFV, Stryker, PzH-2000 Self-Propelled Howitzer, the M-16/M-4 series of rifles and/or carbines and the AH-64 Apache helicopter as its primary combat platforms which are to be upgraded with advanced technology from our allies. In addition the Army Air Corps has selected the Eurofighter Typhoon along with the F-16 to be the primary atmospheric fighters in its inventory. The combat systems mentioned by the Foreign Minister are either currently being used by our forces as target practice in live fire exercises or collecting dust, wasting valuable space and personnel to guard and maintain them."

"What are they going to give us in return for this?"

"For starters both planets have offered 100,000 soldiers each to placed under our command and in addition, the Langarans are willing to give us access to their Naquadriah reserves, which will nearly quadruple the amount of material our warheads, while the Pangarans are offering to send in even more troops. Both planets are both willing to negotiate for further cooperation and have expressed an interest in acquiring more of our military equipment and technology especially that of the 100 plus F-22 Raptor Advanced Tactical Fighters currently in our inventory. Their ambassadors and military officials have told us that they are eager to establish military contracts with our defense contractors here on Earth in order to modernize their military providing that a sizeable portion of the work is done on their own homeworlds.

"Unfortunately, we will have to equip and train those troops with modern military equipment. Since the technological level of both Pangara and Langara are both equivalent to that of Earth before the First World War. We will have to train them how to operate them However the majority of the military equipment issued to Pangaran and Langaran fighting under the command of our forces will still be sold to them. Other than this shipment of arms, they still have to buy weapons, although at a discount from us."

"What does the Legislature think about this?" Hayes asked his Foreign Minister, although he was the Chief Executive of the Terran Federal Republic, any agreement he made with any foreign power would have to be approved by the members of the Legislature.

"Currently the legislature has expressed both its explicit support and confidence in your administration, so the proposal should pass through quickly. In addition, they're busy ironing out the new Constitution and are depending on you to run the war."

"Alright then Ladies and Gentlemen doing something is a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. Tell the Langarans and Pangarans that we'll accept their joint offer and send in the troops to Chulak and Dakara," Hayes ordered.

* * *

**Heidelberg, Germany 8th Army Temporary Headquarters**

"_Herr General_ elements of I Corps have begun to engage XVIII Corps," Major General Hans Krebs, G-3 and Operations Officer of the 8th Army reported as he watched a computer monitor showing soldiers on both sides begin to fire upon each other.

"Excellent. Remind me complement General Xing on his excellent maneuvering and coordination," stated General Robert Wilson, Commanding Officer of the 8th Army as oversaw all of his forces from the command and control center formerly occupied by the Seventh Army.

For the last six months, the 8th Army had been engaging in constant and rigorous war games against one another. This was done to a degree that could not be undergone during peacetime, which included live fire exercises, and constant and relentless simulated combat that stretched on to days and even weeks and came as close to the real thing as possible. This was to give soldiers as much combat experience as possible since the majority of the 8th Army had not seen combat and needed as much experience as possible.

It had paid of splendidly and the 8th Army had gone from a hastily put together mob of military units from over five different countries with different doctrines, equipment and organization to a integrated and cohesive force that functioned as one with deadly efficiency and precision.

Suddenly the phone directly and securely tied to the Federal Capital in Geneva began to ring, disrupting the General and his staff from the exercise at hand. Wilson's chief of staff, Major Ari Levenstein picked it up and answered. "Sir, the Minister of Defense is on the phone," the Major informed his Commanding Officer, handing the phone to Wilson.

"Sir this is General Wilson speaking."

"General is this line secure?" Minster of Defense Hammond asked. Wilson immediately knew that at this time something big was up.

He paused for a minute to ensure that the safeguards and encryptions were now in place. "Affirmative sir."

"Execute Operation Rubicon."

"Rodger that sir," replied Wilson as he hung up the phone and turned to his staff. "Terminate the exercise. I want all units returning their respective bases immediately," he ordered suddenly.

"_Herr General_?" Krebs looked at his superior officer astonished as if he had grown a second head.'

"You heard me. All units RTB immediately." Seeing the puzzled looks on the faces of his staff he explained, "Operation Rubicon is a go. The first transports to Keflavik arrive in the next 18 hours. Inform the Corps commanders that I want every unit packed and ready to go within the next 12 hours. I want every single piece of equipment down to the last case of ammunition and rifle loaded up. Lets get to work."

* * *

**Germany, Somewhere in the Fulda Gap**

"Sir Lieutenant Watkins' First platoon has spotted the enemy around 500 meters away from his current position. He estimates that enemy is around battalion strength and is heavily entrenched," First Sergeant Timothy Masters, Senior Non-Commissioned Officer of the assembled company informed to his commanding officer.

"Excellent Top. (9) Have Lieutenants Hurst and Meyer of put their Second, and Third Platoons to sit tight for now but I want them ready to attack the position in the next five minutes. Inform Alpha, Charlie and Delta companies about the enemy position. I'm going to contact battalion HQ immediately to request permission to engage and for additional support," ordered Captain Michael "Mike" Sanders Bravo Company Commander of the Second Battalion, Ninth Infantry Regiment, 1st Heavy Brigade Combat Team, of the Second Infantry Division, 1st Corps, 8th Army, Terran Federal Army.

At twenty-four, Sanders was considered by many to be young for his rank since many of his peers his age were brand-new Second Lieutenants fresh from college or the service academies and few had even gotten a promotion to First Lieutenant let alone have more than two years of active duty.

However despite the fact that many of his superiors raised their eyebrows at Sander's young age to hold that high of a position, there was no question that he was qualified enough to lead a Company of soldiers.

When at the age of seventeen years old, barely old enough to join the Army Sanders had decided to attend the New Mexico Military Institute in Roswell, New Mexico, immediately after graduating a year early from High School to do so. After a short two years and earning his AA degree in Business, and due to an Early Commissioning Program at NMMI Sanders was commissioned as a reserve officer in the United States Army with the rank of Second Lieutenant and was sent to Fort Benning to complete Infantry Training, graduating in late 2002 right before Operation Iraqi Freedom.

As a newly commissioned Officer assigned to a platoon in the US 3rd Infantry Division "Rock of The Marne", he had participated in the initial march to Baghdad in the Iraq War (10) and was part of the Third Division's lead elements in its drive towards Baghdad. He quickly showed innate skills as both an Infantry Officer and a gifted leader, quickly impressing his company commander and platoon sergeant both of who had served in Operation Desert Storm and the respect of the soldiers under his command as well.

Within 2 years of active duty midway through his tour of duty in Iraq, at the tender age of twenty-one, an age where his peers were still in college, partying and fooling around Sanders was promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant.

After his two-year tour of duty in Iraq as well as his time with the Third Division expired, he was transferred to the Second Infantry in South Korea where he was to take command of a Company of Mechanized Infantry stationed near the 38th Parallel and was assigned there up to the Ori attack on Earth.

Unlike many of his fellow soldiers under his command, he had not lost any relatives he had not lost any loved ones and was one of the few in the world whose families escaped unscathed. However he did know what it was like to loose someone, an experience that he had undergone more than once during his tour in Iraq.

As the soldiers under his command began to prepare their M-4A2 Carbines along with their M-249 Squad Automatic Weapons and their company's 14 newly issued and improved M2A4 Bradley (11) Infantry Fighting Vehicles equipped with the latest military technology, for combat, Sanders adjusted his radio to battalion frequency and radioed his commander.

"Sir. Enemy position spotted and identified. Requesting permission to engage with support from Alpha, Charlie and Delta," Sanders radioed his battalion commander, hoping that he would get two companies of 14 tanks each of the new M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tanks from Charlie and Delta Companies for combat support that were armed with the latest technology both Terran and alien which included mounted energy shields on top of its already impressive armor of Trinium (12) alloy which was 100 times denser than steel while even lighter than the previous metal, a new 140 mm electromagnetic rail gun as its primary weapon and ran on a miniature naquahdah reactor that allowed the tank to have an almost unlimited range.

"Negative Captain. Request denied. Cease operations immediately. The brass has ordered that as of 1500 hours the exercise is terminated. All units return to base immediately. You along side your company will be briefed on the current situation as soon as you return to base," ordered Lieutenant Colonel William Jenkins, Commander of the Second Battalion of the Ninth Infantry Regiment, Sander's direct superior.

"Rodger that sir," replied Sanders, who at the moment was confused at the brass' decision to cancel one of its largest exercises. Keying his radio back to company frequency he addressed his assembled troops. "Bravo Company, this is Captain Sanders. Effective immediately the exercise is cancelled, by order from the brass. All units are to return to base immediately. Repeat Romeo Tango Bravo. Further information and instructions will be given once we return to base."

"What the hell is going on sir?" asked Masters confused at the cancellation of a major exercise. Already he could see the opposing force from the XVIII Airborne Corps breaking cover 1500 meters away from them and marching back to their base.

"Beats me Top," Sanders shrugged not knowing what was happening. "Lets have the boys get saddle up and head back to base as quick as possible. The sooner we get to base, the sooner we'll know what the hell is going on."

I wasn't until they returned to base that they heard the good news.

* * *

**February 25**

"Attention on Deck!"

Collingsworth and his fellow officers assembled in the briefing room of the _Charles De Gaulle_, another _Daedalus_-class Battlecruiser and one of Vigilance's sister ships rapidly rose to attention as an Admiral came through the hatch.

"As you were," Vice Admiral Pierre Bichet, commander of Battlecruiser Squadron Two addressed the assembled officers as he took his place at the podium, where he was to address his subordinates about the upcoming mission.

Collingsworth and the other officers quickly sat back down to their seats, their attention focused solely on their superior officer and what he was about to say.

Bichet then took his place at the podium and began his briefing. "Ladies and Gentlemen, what I am about to discuss here is a matter of utmost secrecy to the Terran Federal Republic and its allies." The Admiral paused for a second to let the gravity of the situation sink into the minds of all those present. "As of 1400 GMT, (13) by order of the President of the Terran Federal Republic, Battlecruiser Squadron Two and its subordinate units_, Nikolai Kuznetsov, Geogry Zhukov, Chester Nimitz, Isoroku Yamamoto, Horatio Nelson, Charles De Gaulle, _and _Heihachiro Togo_ with their embarked fighter squadrons and other support units are to be attached to Terran Federal Navy Task Force 11 under the command of myself and as Captain Collingsworth as my Second in Command. Our task is to reinforce the allied fleet currently at Dakara."

"Before I begin with the details of this briefing, there is something that needs to be completed. Captain Collingsworth please rise and step forward," the Rear Admiral ordered.

Collingsworth rose to his feet, quickly walked towards the Admiral and stood at rigid attention, not knowing what was going on.

"By the order of George C. Hammond, Minister of Defense of the Terran Federal Republic, combat personnel that are serving in billets may be promoted to ranks required for the proper execution of their duties. Under the direction of General Hank Landry, Commander-In-Chief Sol, you are to be promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral (Lower Half) effective immediately. You are now officially the Executive Officer of this Task Force," Bichet announced and proceeded to remove the two silver eagles on both sides of Collingsworth's collar that signified him as Captain and replaced them with two silver stars, one on each collar that now identified him as a Flag Officer of the Terran Navy. "Congratulations on making Flag Rank, Admiral. You've earned it," Bichet congratulated the newly promoted officer.

"Thank you sir," Collingsworth said as calmly as he could, then walking back to his seat. Although he acted calmly on the outside, he was completely elated. For making Rear Admiral was a very significant accomplishment because few officers were promoted beyond Captain. On average in most Navies including the US Navy, the biggest pre-bombardment Navy in the world, out of a hundred Captains, only one was chosen to advance to flag rank and usually occurred in the officer's late forties or early fifties. To attain such status in one's early forties was rare and was a testament to an officer's skill and prowess as an effective tactician.

Bichet then activated the holographic projector, showing the layout of Dakara and its solar system. "This is our area of operations, ladies and gentlemen. Dakara's solar system has three planets; nearest planet is a gas giant, the next is uninhabitable and is used for mining and the third planet away from its sun, like Earth is Dakara. Currently, 23 Ha'tak-class battleships, 20 of them under Jaffa command, defend the planet while Tok'ra personnel man the last 3. This is supplemented by 5 Asgard starships, 4 _Beliskner_-class Battlecruisers and 1 _O'Neill_-class Battleship."

"Sir, what's the status of the forces at Dakara?" asked Captain Pavel Gorshov, Captain of the _Nelson_.

"Not good. Our allies have managed to fend off six Ori incursions ever since they have arrived in our galaxy, but have sustained heavy losses and had lost 40 to 60 of their fleet. Most of the Ha'taks are heavily damaged and are in dry-docks on the ground and many of their death glider squadrons have been decimated. Luckily, the Asgard ships are completely intact. Are there any more questions? Good. Lets move on."

Another, one that everyone from the greenest Ensign to the most experienced Captain in the room knew very well, an Ori Battlecruiser, then replaced the previous image. "Although, I doubt that there is not a single person in this room who does not know what this is, it is prudent that we go over this. This is an Ori Battlecruiser, their primary warship class. Intelligence has seen fit to label this class ships as the _Seraphim_-class. They are approximately 700 meters long and are circular in design. Each ship is commanded by an Ori Prior whose powerful physic energies are essential to the operation of the ship. The shields on the ship are second to none and require sustained heavy fire in order for them to wear down and eventually overload. Its primary weapon is a large energy cannon in the fore of the ship that is powerful enough to cripple a Ha'tak with one shot. Make note that secondary energy weapons are mounted on the side and aft to prevent it from being blind sighted in a battle." (14)

"Although the Ori ships are powerful, they are not invincible and do have weaknesses. The first weakness that we can exploit is their speed. With their large mass and a crew numbering in the thousands, the _Seraphim _are significantly slower than ours. By taking advantage of our vessel's superior speed, we can outflank them and concentrate our fire and kill the enemy ships off one by one. The second weakness is that Ori capital ships have no dedicated anti-Spacefighter armament and are vulnerable to Spacefighter assaults. However do not believe for one moment that they are completely defenseless. Reports from Jaffa personnel confirm that the Ori do have Spacefighters in their arsenal. Which brings us to the next subject at hand."

The projector changed once again and now showed the image of a small oval shaped craft.

"This is an Ori fighter. Intelligence has assigned the code name "Fury" to this craft. The Fury is approximately 7.62 to 9.14 meters long and 3 to 3.5 meters wide. Jaffa pilots report that the Fury has superior speed and agility compared to Jaffa Death Gliders and are armed with two energy cannons internally mounted in the fuselage. The Fury with its impressive agility and speed pays a major price for these advantages. First of all, like the F-302 Mongoose, the Fury is unshielded and relies on its armored hull for protection. Secondly with only energy weapons, the Fury's effective combat range is only a fifth of the Mongoose's and cannot engage in a range of less than 16-kilometer radius. Finally, with its small size the Fury cannot remain on the battlefield for a period of a little more than an hour before returning to a _Seraphim_-class Battlecruiser for rearmament and refueling." (15)

"What about their tactics?" asked the Commander of VF-32.

"Their tactics are very rudimentary and combat recordings taken by Allied Forces show that they operate in swarms and have no effective combat organization or coordination. Post-battle analysis of the quality of their pilots indicate that they have little or no dog fighting experience and have a hard time combating their Jaffa opponents due to their lack of experience and short operational lifespan of their pilots."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Joint Chiefs expect us to be ready to reinforce Dakara quickly. Supplies lasting for six months time are currently being readied at our Fleet Base in orbit around Mars. We leave for Dakara in four days. Dismissed."

As the briefing ended, the officers began to exit the _Kuznetsov_'s briefing room and prepared to transport back to their respective ships with their somber minds set on the grim task at hand.

Author's Notes

1-Although this does sound like an absurd at first but it's not as far-fetched as one would think. During the Second World War, one ship was launched from US shipyards every 36 hours. Given the fact that the Terrans (see very bottom) have been given Asgard technology and that the construction of the ships is in orbit, production could be this quick due to the fact that they do not have to follow as many environmental regulations in space. Remember, in a shipyard, one does not often work on one ship at a time and often does builds many during the same period, thus multiple ships are able to be commissioned into the fleet quickly.

2-I named the lead ship of my fan created battleship class in tribute to what would have been the most lethal battleship class ever built. The Montana class of WWII was to be the most powerful battleship ever built and would had been even more powerful than the Yamato-class. However with the emergence of the Aircraft Carrier as the preeminent naval vessel, the Montana class as scrapped and was never to be built.

3-With Lockheed Martin being the US military's biggest defense contractor, it would be safe to bet that Lockheed engineers would have designed the F-302.

3-The Minister of the Interior is unlike the US Secretary of the Interior and supervises over the security of a country as opposed to outside threats.

5-The US 8th Army are one of the biggest military formations in the world. It has three Corps attached to it, and although only one division is stationed in Korea, it is responsible for all UN forces defending the Korean peninsula from North Korean attack. Given the fact that I did not want to use new army names for existing units, I just used US designation and Table or Organization and Equipment (TOE) for units to make it simpler.

6-In US military history there have been 106 Infantry Divisions activated in the US Army. However only the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 25th are active in the US Army. The some of these divisions are either in the Reserves or National Guard. The majority these divisions are deactivated. Units are very picky about their designation, lineage and battle honors and thus would be better to create a new unit for a newly formed army as opposed to making them take on another units name and colors.

7-Commonwealth Regiments are at actually battalion strength and four of them would only make up a single brigade.

8-Most politicians at the national are usually War veterans. Thus I decided to make Hayes a Vietnam veteran.

9-In the Army, Top is a nickname for Non-Commissioned Officers with the rank of First Sergeant.

10-I am trying to be as apolitical as possible, so don't flame me over this topic.

11-Currently the most modern version of the M2/3 Bradley IFV in the real world is the A3 variant. However in this story given the fact that the military's decision to upgrade its vehicles with alien technology, there would a M2/3A4.

12-Trinium is an alloy used in both SG-1 and Atlantis for the hulls of both the BC-303 and 304 Battlecruisers.

13-Greenwich Mean Time, this is what the official time and date of Earth is based off of.

14- I am using a variation of NATO reporting code for this piece of fiction. 14-Ships will have a designation starting with S. (e.g. Slasher, Stonewall) Fighters will start with F. (e.g. fabliau, faceplate) More Ori vehicles will be given code names but I will not disclose what vehicles the Ori will use at the moment.

15-Given what the show has shown about Ori society, any small craft fielded by them would have to be dependent on a larger ship in order to reaffirm obedience to the Ori and would have to be very unsophisticated since the humans under Ori control are uneducated to a large extent and are more expendable than their Milky Way counterparts. Just think of this as the TIE fighter of SG-1.

Ship Naming Conventions of the Terran Navy

Battleships- named after provinces and states on Earth. (E.g. Kashmir, South Dakota, Bavaria)

Supercarriers- named after famous statesmen and leaders in Terran history. (E.g. Elizabeth Tudor (Queen Elizabeth I), Simon Bolivar, George Washington)

Battlecruisers- named after war heroes, Admirals (E.g. John Jellicoe, Horatio Nelson)

Cruisers- named after battles. (E.g. Bunker Hill, Verdun, Tsushima)

Fleet Carriers- named after famous aces (E.g. Manfred von Richoven, Saburo Sakai)

Destroyers and Frigates will be named after cities. (E.g. Jakarta, Tokyo, Kuwait City)


	3. Chapter 2

* * *

**March 5 Keflavik Airport**

What was known, as Keflavik International Airport was now a hive of hectic but focused activity. Aircraft ranging from the venerable C-130 Hercules to newly fielded A380 landed on the airfield every couple of minutes, disgorging massive quantities of troops, vehicles and equipment that was vital to the 8th Army's thrust to Chulak.

At the edge of the airport, combat engineers using bulldozers and other heavy construction equipment were busily working to expand the airfield to increase its aircraft capacity.

Over 2000 heavily armed, rough looking MPs armed to the teeth with Benelli M4 Super 90 shotguns, Heckler and Koch MP-7 Personal Defense Weapons and riot control gear guarded the base form any would be malcontents who wished to disrupt the operations going on.

Inside one of Keflavik's hastily erected hangar bays, Sanders supervised his company's efforts as they along with the help of Army Air Corps personnel began to unload their M-2 Bradleys from the recently arrived C-17 transport aircraft.

"Captain Sanders?" a uniformed soldier wearing the single stripe and rocker of a PFC approached and saluted.

"At ease Private," Sanders replied returning the salute.

"Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins wants to see you sir."

"I'll be there immediately." Sanders thanked the soldier and turned to one of his Lieutenants and yelled, "Meyer! You're in charge until I get back!" and immediately ran to meet his battalion commander and another person in civilian garb he didn't know who had just exited a Humvee parked outside the hangar.

"Captain Sanders reporting as ordered sir," Sanders said as he snapped at salute to the Colonel.

"As you were, Mike," the Colonel saluted back. "I'd like you to meet Chelsea Somerville from the Guardian Unlimited," Jenkins introduced the civilian standing next to him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Captain," the reporter spoke with a British accent as she greeted Sanders.

_Fuck!_ Sanders thought. He had been in Iraq and knew what was going to happen next. He didn't have anything against reporters but didn't like being put on any baby-sitting detail.

"Ma'am can you please excuse us for a moment?" Sanders asked the young reporter.

"Certainly," she replied and walked out of hearing range. Although she was fresh out of Cambridge and new to journalism, she knew that at the moment the tension was thick in the air.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Under proper military etiquette, one was to be respectful to his or her superior officers at all times. However if a superior gave their consent for subordinate to speak freely, they were free to speak their mind, without fear of reprisal.

"Granted."

"With all due respect, running a mechanized infantry company with a hundred and sixty trained personnel is hard enough. I need to baby-sit this reporter in a combat zone as much as I need a fucking hole in the head!"

"Calm down son, you're preaching to the choir. The REMFs (1) in Geneva have decided to embed reporters in our units just like the Iraq War."

"Why my company, sir? Can't Smith, O'Malley, Lee or Kruger take her?" Sanders asked mentioning the other company commanders in the battalion.

"You're my most experienced company commander by a long shot. The commanders of Alpha, Charlie, Delta and Echo are completely new to the job. None of them have been in charge of their company for more than 6 months."

"Sir, we're going to into combat and the likelihood of her getting into combat is pretty high. Can't we stick her in one of the supply units in the rear? I doubt that the brass will like one of the reporters getting killed."

"Sorry Mike. I've already tried."

"Does she at least know what the hell she's getting into?" Sanders asked hoping that his new charge had some sort of common sense.

"Beats me, I've only known her for ten minutes more than you have."

"Sir do you have two pairs of ACUs, (2) a K-Pot, Interceptor Body Armor, and a pair of boots that can have?"

"Just like I was thinking," Jenkins replied bringing out the said materials out of the Humvee and giving them to Sanders. "It's the least I can do."

"Thank you, sir."

"Good luck Sanders. I'll see you at Chulak," Jenkins said as he got back into his Humvee and drove off.

Sanders paused for a moment, watching the Humvee drove away from him. Turning his mind back to the operations at hand, he saw the reporter standing in the hangar, silently watching his men.

Eager to get on to business, Sanders jogged to the reporter.

"Ms. Somerville welcome to Bravo Company," Sanders greeted the reporter, offering her his hand.

"As I said before, nice to meet you Captain," she replied taking it.

"Ms. Somerville, forgive me for being blunt but I am a very busy man right now, so please my rudeness. I have no time for pleasantries at the moment. Since you are new to this, let me inform you about some immediate changes that are going to have to take place," he told the reporter.

"First of all, the clothes have to go," Sanders said, pointing at what she was wearing; a white shirt with a khaki vest on top of it and pants of the same color.

"_Excuse me?_" Somerville asked the Captain, her face full of indignation and was ready to slap him.

_Shit!_ Sanders thought. He'd forgotten that he was speaking to someone of the opposite sex. "The clothes that you are currently wearing are completely inappropriate for the local environment. You'll stick out like a sore thumb and will be a prime target for any Ori soldier wielding a staff weapon," he explained.

"Captain, the Geneva Conventions states the journalists are non-combatants and thus must be treated as such. Surely the Ori…"

"Ma'am the Articles of the Geneva Conventions was ratified by the now defunct nations of _Earth._ The Ori are from another _galaxy_. I seriously doubt that the Ori have ever head of that agreement. And if they did they did, they probably wouldn't follow it."

"Fine," she replied, not liking it one bit, knowing that she had to play by the Captain's rules.

Grabbing one of the fatigues that the Colonel had given him, identical to the ones that he was currently wearing. He picked one up off the ground and showed them to the journalist. "Ma'am, this is an Army Combat Uniform, the standard issue battledress in the Terran Federal Army. The camouflage pattern on the uniform allows the wearer to effectively blend into any environment, thus increasing the probability of the wearer's survivability."

"Secondly, your need to change your footwear. I'm glad that you brought hiking shoes instead of sandals or any other types of frail footwear, but compared to the standard issue Army Footwear they will wear out quickly," he said pointing at her newly bought hiking apparel and giving her the pair of boots that he had gotten from the Colonel.

"Get changed and report back to be when you are finished. There's a latrine 300 meters behind me," he told her, pointing at the back of the hangar.

Five minutes later, she came back from the latrines wearing her newly issued ACU and boots.

"This is the Interceptor II Body Armor System, the standard issue protective clothing issued by the Army. This is going to be you main form of protection from any small arms fire from the enemy. The Trinium protective plates inserted at the front and back of the vest, cover your chest and back. It can be equipped for additional protection with optional neck, shoulder, side, and groin attachments. Combat testing has proven that the plates are able to withstand up to 2 blasts from a Jaffa Staff weapon at a distance of 50 meters," he said, holding an armored vest that corresponded to the camouflage pattern on their fatigues and then proceeded to fasten the vest over the reporter's newly issued clothing.

"Since your status as a journalist classifies you as a non-combatant, you are not allowed to carry arms or other military equipment. It would be beneficial for you to carry additional protective clothing to further protect yourself from enemy fire," he told her, attaching the shoulder, neck and groin attachments to her vest.

"Off," she exclaimed, her body struggling to adapt to the newly added weight on her upper torso.

"You should be thankful that your vest and its attachments only weigh 9 kilos. The one that I wore in Iraq weighed almost twice as much," told her somberly, no sympathy evident in his battle-hardened eyes.

_That boy, I mean man, was in Iraq? _She asked herself amazed. He looked awfully young to be a veteran of the second Iraqi conflict. While he and his comrades were fighting in the deserts of the Middle East, she was safe at home in Kent, enjoying her gap year (3) after graduating from secondary school."I suppose that there isn't a ladies version?" she asked weakly, trying to lighten up the situation. The bloody vest was crushing her chest.

"I'm afraid not ma'am," Sanders replied stoically and without emotion. The higher-ups had deemed that women were allowed to serve alongside men in the combat arms. However, they were still a rare sight to see since most of them were still in basic training.

"The final piece of equipment that you are to wear is your helmet," he said, showing a helmet that vaguely resembled the ones used by German Army during the Second Word War. "This is your most important piece of equipment for it protects your body's central nervous system. No amount of body armor can save you if you are hit in the head without a helmet."

Sanders paused for a moment to let the information sink into her mind. "The MICH TC-2007 Advanced Combat Helmet comes with an integrated adjustable liner and 7 attachable pads inside the helmet to allow a comfortable ergonomic fit and proper wear of the helmet," showing her the inside contents of the helmet and then proceeded to fasten the helmet on her head, completing the her new attire.

"As you can see due to its weight and restriction of mobility most personnel choose not to wear body armor in non-hostile environments," Sanders stated.

She looked around and saw that she was the only person with in the vicinity wearing body armor. All other personnel in the area including the Captain, with the exception of military police were solely wearing their ACUs and had either Army-issued patrol caps like the Captain, or boonie hats on their heads.

"Since you are not used to the added weight on your body, I would recommend that you keep only the vest on, without any attachments on for now to acquaint yourself with the additional weight. At the very least you should break in your boots to maximum comfort and range of motion," he told her and proceeded to take off her cumbersome vest and its attachments and showed her how to put it back on if she wished.

"Now that we have your clothing straightened out, we are now going to take a look at your luggage," he said pointing to the three bags at her feet. "What do you have in your bags?"

"Toiletries and extra changes of clothes," she told him.

"We're going to cut down your luggage. Put everything that you need for the trip to Chulak, in this bag." He pointed to her smallest bag, the size of a small rucksack, similar to the one that she had used in secondary school.

"Surely your armored vehicles can accommodate my gear?" she asked incredulously. The large vehicles that the Captain and his men were using had to be big enough to let her store her things on board.

"Ma'am, the M2A4 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle barely has the ability to carry its complement of a single squad of six mechanized infantrymen with the addition of 3 soldiers to crew the vehicle. The interior of the vehicle is already extremely cramped with personnel and equipment and the addition of a tenth person and their equipment inside the vehicle does nothing to help matters."

"Ms. Somerville, how often do you think that you're going to _clean_ yourself once we get to Chulak?" he asked her.

"Probably once every couple of days?" she guessed, never giving it a single thought until he asked.

"Forget about your toiletries. Ma'am, we'll be lucky if we get to _wash_ once every two weeks. We'll be stationed on the forward edge of the battle area, directly in front of the advancing Ori forces, not in the rear. The last shower that you take here at Keflavik may be the last shower that you'll ever take," he told her, reminding her of the dangerous situation she would be in.

"Same goes with your extra changes of _civilian_ clothes. You won't need them. Once we get to Chulak, we're going to be in the forward edge of the battle area until the brass says otherwise and will be attired appropriately. I won't interfere with your job. However if you put my men's lives in jeopardy in the process, reporter or not you'll wish that you'll never been born."

She nodded taken aback by the Captain's threat.

"Now if you will excuse me Ms. Somerville, I've got a company to manage," he said as he turned his full attention away from the reporter.

"…" 23 year-old Chelsea Somerville could only stare in silence as she silently digested the young Captain's words.

* * *

**March 8**

**CNN News Report**

_As the military's buildup in Keflavik continues, Pentagon officials are tight lipped about the recent developments. _

The camera cut away to show a flight of 4 Antonov An-225 transport aircraft landing one after another and quickly proceeding to unload tanks and troops out of its cargo bays.

_Speculation is rampant as to where or even what these troops are doing or going. Some say that these troops are on their way to relieve the Atlantis Expedition in the Pegasus galaxy, while others suspect that Dakara, the capital of the Free Jaffa Nation, one of our allies is the destination…_

"Chevron Seven … locked! The gate is now active. Give'm hell for us! Over." radioed the crew operating the Stargate located on Earth.

"Rodger wilco," replied Colonel Jenkins from his command vehicle. "Alright ladies, you heard the man. Lets move out," he ordered his battalion.

"HUA!!!" the battalion exclaimed as one as they started up their engines on their vehicles and began to drive one by one through the Stargate.

Inside one of the battalion's M2 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles, 9 soldiers and one civilian journalist sat inside the vehicles cramped interior. The atmosphere was grim and silent as they made last minute preparations before going into combat.

Chelsea sat watching the proceedings with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Every soldier was in full combat gear and each had a stoic mask on as if this was an everyday occurrence to him.

"Bravo Six, you're clear to go," one of the personnel operating the 'gate radioed the IFV.

"Rodger that."

In order to decrease the potential for possible vehicle accidents, the vehicles entered the Stargate thirty seconds apart from one another. This enabled the drivers of the vehicles to have some leeway in order for them to get out of the way of the next incoming vehicle from the Stargate.

"Listen up, I want safeties on for all of your weapons. I don't want any Snafus as we go through the 'gate." Sanders told his men, not wanting anyone accidentally discharging their weapons inside the Bradley.

The resounding chorus of _clicks_ rang through the interior as the soldiers activated the safeties on their weapons.

"Brace yourselves!" Sanders called out, knowing that the trip through the Stargate was as turbulent as it was brief.

Everyone, including the vehicle's sole civilian occupant grabbed on to whatever parts of the hull that they could find.

As the vehicle entered the Stargate, the occupants began to become slightly nauseated and unsettled due to the fact that this was their first time going through the 'gate. However since they were inside an enclosed vehicle, did not permit them to view the wormhole as they passed through.

The nauseating effects of traveling through the Stargate stopped, signaling that the Bradley had emerged from the event horizon and was now on Chulak. The driver of the Bradley paused for a couple of seconds to regain his balance and state of equilibrium before continuing to drive forward fifty meters as directed by personnel in charge of traffic control.

Eager to get out of the Bradley's cramped interior, Sanders and his men along with their embedded reporter quickly exited the vehicle.

As he took a look at his surroundings, Sanders blinked. Instead of the lush and coniferous forests of Chulak, he and his men were in some sort of subterranean complex, big enough to hold an entire armored brigade.

A Lieutenant wearing the triple turreted castle of the Army's engineers on his collar approached Sanders and saluted.

Sanders returned the salute. "Where the hell are we Lieutenant…" he looked at the Lieutenant's name tag. "… Kwon?"

"Welcome to Chulak sir. You're inside a hollowed out mountain similar to our installation in Cheyenne Mountain."

Suddenly it made perfect sense to Sanders. The 'gate had to be in some sort of hardened and protected area due to the fact that the enemy effectively controlled the skies and space. Any Stargate transit made out in the open would make a perfect target for enemy air and spacecraft.

"What's the Tactical situation?"

"I don't know much, but the last units of the XVIII Airborne Corps arrived a day before you guys did," the Lieutenant replied.

"What about air support?" he asked, very concerned about the fact that the enemy dominated the air.

"I've seen Apaches, Blackhawks and Chinooks go through the puke 'chute," the engineer replied using the name given by the personnel on Chulak.

"No planes at all?"

"Not at all."

"Fuck." Sanders wasn't an airdale (4) but he knew that helicopters were no match for whatever aircraft the enemy tried to field.

The _whoosh _sound of the Stargate closing indicated that the last of the M113 Armored Personnel Carriers carrying the combat engineers of Echo Company had finished their transit.

"Excuse me Captain, I have to get back to work on the 'gate," the Lieutenant told him, leaving Sanders alone to his thoughts, wondering about the tactical strength of the enemy he was going to face.

* * *

**March 10 8th Army Headquarters, Chulak**

"I Corps has completed transit," reported Krebs.

"Excellent." Wilson now had two-thirds of his Army on Chulak, with only his smallest and most heavily armored Corps still on Earth. "What about our supply trains?" he asked concerned about his logistics. As Napoleon said, an Army marches on its stomach. One might have the best-trained Army with the best equipment in the galaxy, however without food to feed them and ammunition for them to use, they were as useful as a rubber crutch.

"We have one supply convoy coming from Earth for 3 transits made by our line units. We have enough ammunition for 5 sustained battles," reported Major General Sven de Vries, his G-4 logistics officer.

"What about the Stingers I requested?" Knowing that enemy controlled the heavens and the skies, Wilson had ordered his logistics officer to shanghai every single surface to air missile and launcher that he could get his hands on. The members of the Army's Air Defense Artillery Branch were going to have their hands full. Wilson wanted to make sure that they were adequately prepared for the enemy and then some.

"We currently have 2500 FIM-92 Stinger surface to air missiles with the addition of 1000 AIM-92 Stinger missiles specially made to be able to be fired from our Apache helicopters. In addition, we have an extra 40 M1097 Avenger and M6 Linebacker Air Defense Systems added to those that we already have."

"Great. General Michalski, when do you think you'll have your airfields ready?"

"The first of my airfields should be operational in 1 week and will be able to implement combat operations with in 2," replied the Army Air Corps Major General in charge of all aircraft on Chulak. His English was slightly slurred due to the fact that the ability to read, speak and understand the English language was recently implanted into his brain by Asgard technology. His vocal chords were still not used to the new and unfamiliar sounds required to speak the language, which was vastly different than his native Polish.

"Great. Prime (5) Terak, what's the status of your warriors?" Wilson asked carefully using the word 'warrior' as opposed to the Terran terms of 'warfighter' or 'soldier" to indicate respect for the Jaffa.

"My warriors number slightly over 25,000. A little more than a division as you _Tau'ri_ say."

"How are your new weapons treating you?" asked Wilson. When the 8th Army first arrived a Chulak, Wilson immediately requested additional weapons to arm the Jaffa. This was due to two reasons, the first being that the Jaffa had used up most of their weapons in the last few weeks and the second being the inferiority of their weapons to their Terran counterparts in comparison.

In comparison to Terran assault rifles, staff weapons were vastly inferior. This was due to many reasons. First of all, the staff weapons were very large with the length of around 2 meters long and heavy, which made it very difficult to carry. Second, the ergonomics of the staff weapon was poor and could not be held in a comfortable and effective firing position. Third, the rate of fire was extremely slow and could only fire around once every five seconds, which was very slow compared to Terran standards. Fourth, the average Jaffa could not hit the broad side of a barn within a range of 50 meters, a range where _every _Terran soldier was qualified to hit targets with deadly accuracy.

The only factor that the staff weapon had over the Terran assault rifle was its stopping power, since in most cases it only took one hit to take the enemy down. However this advantage was largely negated by the widespread distribution of hollow point, armor piercing and high explosive ammunition to its soldiers.

"They are excellent weapons, worthy of the warriors who wield them. Many of my warriors are pleased with these weapons. However some of the older warriors do not particularly care for them. However they are both old and stubborn, so do not heed their words, for they are mere grumblings of fools unwilling to change," the Jaffa replied.

"I'm glad to hear that. How are your women and children in the shelters doing? We'll be ready to evacuate them back to Earth within a couple of days."

"That is most welcome. Battle is reserved for warriors and warriors only. Innocents should not be forced to fight."

Turning to his operations officer he asked, "General Krebs, what's the status on the XVIII Airborne?"

"As per your orders, the XVIII Airborne has deployed to the Forward Edge of the Battle Area and has engaged the enemy," the General reported.

"Casualties?"

"200 wounded in action. Luckily most of the wounds are not severe. 0 Missing in action so far. However 18 have been killed in action."

Wilson nodded, already the first of his boys were coming home in body bags, or as the Pentagon now called them, human remains pouches. He now had some letters to write.

* * *

**March 14 2008 Presidential Residence Press Room**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the Terran Federal Republic and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," the announcer stated as President Hayes and General O'Neill walked onto the center stage and took their places at the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Terran Federal Republic, I am here to announce that the Terran Military under my orders has commenced offensive operations to support our allies in the Milky Way Galaxy."

Immediately the press got to their feet and began clamoring for the President and the Chairman to answer their questions.

"Mr. President, will the deployment of military forces away from Earth and the Solar System affect the ability of the military to defend Earth from another Ori attack?" asked a reporter.

"Due to the fact that I'm not the most knowledgeable of military matters, I'm going to have General O'Neill answer this one."

"The Terran Republic's ability to defend itself against any foe will not be compromised by the deployment of forces across the Milky Way."

"Can you tell us how many troops that have been deployed?"

Not knowing whether to answer or not, O'Neill looked to his Commander-in-Chief. The President nodded to Hayes, giving him the okay.

"Somewhere in the ballpark of 200,000 to 300,000 personnel."

"Won't that severely affect the military's pool of personnel?"

"Currently, the military has over 75 million men and women under arms. The deployment of one percent of the military will not severely affect the military's ability to defend the Solar System."

"Mr. President, can the economy endure such a massive deployment of troops?"

"It isn't a matter of if the economy can but if the will. To win this war, we are going to have to take the fight to the enemy. At this point in Terran History, the global economy of Earth has not been higher and more prosperous. 7 our of every 8 adults are employed, many of whom are working in our factories both on Earth and in space. I am confident that the economy will be able to withstand an extra-Solar deployment of troops," the President stated. (6)

"What have our allies doing to assist us at the moment?"

"Our allies have proven to be very helpful to us. The Asgard and Tok'ra have assisted us in the improvement of our technological base and the development of new weapons for our Armed Forces. Our human allies from Langara and Pangara have pledged to send a considerable amount of troops to assist our efforts."

"Have there been any casualties as of now?"

"There have. However I will not give out the specifics until their families are notified."

"Thank you, that will be all ladies and gentlemen," the Press Secretary announced as the President and the Chairman left the stage.

**Author's Notes**

(1)- Rear Echelon Mother Fucker. A term used by frontline troops to describe their superiors in the rear in a very negative matter. It is not a term of endearment.

(2)- ACU or Army Combat Uniform, the successor to the Army's Battledress Uniform, able to blend into multiple environments. It is currently in use by the US Army.

(3)- Gap Year. British students often take off a year between secondary and college education. The term is used exclusively in Britain.

(4)- Airdale, a derogatory term used by US and UK soldiers to describe Air Force personnel.

(5)- Jaffa equivalent for a General or an Admiral. Teal'c was the First Prime of Apophis, and thus was the chief warrior for him. This is just a guess. The Jaffa people are a society of warriors, so they don't have very many ranks, like soldiers so I made up my own.

(6)- Remember WWII helped the US economy get out of the Great Depression. I'm guessing that this war would do the same thing except for on the global scale.

* * *

**Sanders is not a chauvinist or sexist pig. He's a veteran company commander who doesn't like unnecessary complications in his job. It is hard enough to tell a company of 100 plus trained soldiers what to and keep track of them at the same time without a civilian reporter running around to complicate things.**

**Terran 8th Army Table of Organization and Equipment**

**CO: General James Wilson**

**Subordinate Units (Not Counting Support Units)**

I Corps

2nd Infantry Division "Indian Head"

24th Infantry Division "Victory"

25th Infantry Division (Light) "Tropic Lighting"

107th Infantry Division (Mechanized) "Dragon"

108th Infantry Division (Mechanized) "Guan Yu"

18th Armored Division "Boudica"

III Corps

4th Infantry Division (Mechanized) "Iron Horse"

7th Infantry Division (Light) "Bayonet"

1st Calvary Division "First Team"

17th Armored Division "Erwin Rommel"

13th Armored Calvary Regiment "Judas Maccabee"

1st Marine Division "The Old Breed"

XVIII Airborne Corps

3rd Infantry Division (Mechanized) "Rock of the Marne"

109th Infantry Division (Light) "Ned Kelly"

10th Mountain Division "Mountaineer"

82nd Airborne Division "All American"

101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) "Screaming Eagles"

**Total Amount of Troops **320,000 Troops


	4. Chapter 3

* * *

**March 5, Chulak Dusk**

"All right gentlemen, we have now arrived at our destination. The powers that be have ordered us to hold this position indefinitely. So were going to make ourselves at home immediately," Sanders announced to his company as they got out of their Bradleys after a three-hour long ride to the front lines. "Watkins!" he barked.

"Yes sir?"

"Your platoon is on first watch. Meyer will relieve you at four hours time. We'll rotate shifts so that one platoon won't be stuck on watch for the entire night."

"Understood sir! First Platoon you heard the Captain, let's move!" he ordered, eagerly.

Sanders sighed. Watkins was a good officer, but he was often too eager to get things done, jumping in right away and forgetting to wait until all of the instructions were given out.

Although he and Watkins were the same age, Watkins was a newly commissioned Second Lieutenant with less than a year's experience under her belt, while he was a veteran Captain with half a decade's worth of knowledge about how to be a soldier. To make things worse, Watkins was also the Battalion's most junior officer with an inferiority complex as wide as an Aircraft Carrier, often feeling that he had to prove that he was a good officer. Unfortunately had the exact opposite effect and his platoon Sergeant, Sergeant First Class Brown was not impressed.

_Sergeant Polanski was I ever like this?_ He thought to himself, remembering his own first command and Sergeant First Class Victor Polanski, the man who taught him the art of soldiering and who had transformed a dumbass Second Lieutenant into the officer he was today. Part of him wanted to relieve Watkins of his command and take over his duties as platoon commander in addition to his job as Company Commander. However, he reasoned that Watkins was still new and that exposure to combat would either quickly kill him or make him a better officer. If not, well he'd cross that bridge if it came.

"Lieutenant. I wasn't done speaking yet."

Watkins face flushed in embarrassment.

"Use your Night Vision Goggles. They're there for a reason. I don't want any Ori sneaking up on us in the middle of the night. If you see anything and I mean anything tell your Sergeant, Platoon Commander or myself. I don't care if its fucking Bigfoot or the whole damn Ori Army. It's a hell of a lot better to be safe than to be waking up in a God Damn ambush. Trust me. I know. I've been there. Is that understood?"

"Sir yes sir!" Watkins exclaimed, as if he were still in Basic Infantry Officers School back in Fort Benning instead of the battlefield.

"Another thing. Keep you voices down. I don't want the entire fucking planet to know that we're here."

Chastened Watkins led his platoon to set up positions across the encampment, securing the company's perimeter.

"Second and Third Platoons, you're dismissed until your respective guard shift begins," he told the other platoons of his company.

Immediately, what was once known as two companies of trained soldiers dissolved into a mob of individuals. Some chose to immediately prepare a place to sleep. While others chose to prepare MREs, the Terran military's standard combat ration for dinner. The more experienced soldiers chose to spend this time cleaning their weapons in preparation for the engagement against the enemy that was sure to come.

Immediately after making his speech, Sanders approached Masters who at the moment was sitting down on the ground disassembling his rifle.

"Hey Top, how's the men?" he asked as he too sat down onto the bare earth.

"Morale is good. The men are nervous but anxious for battle."

"Good," he responded. He took a look at the disassembled rifle on the ground. "Think these things are as good as the boys and girls at H and K told us?" he asked curious at the Sergeant's opinion.

"It's a good weapon. Don't get me wrong but I'm not a big fan of it. Call me a traditionalist or a stick in the mud but I prefer using the older M-16."

After the Terran Federal Army was formed, there was a fierce debate about what was to be the standard service rifle. The Americans wanted the M-4, the Russians and the Chinese wanted the AK-74, the French wanted the FAMAS, the Brits wanted the SA-80 and the Israelis wanted the Tavor.

To quell the rising arguments amongst its officers, the brass decided to test every service rifle in use against each other to see which came out on top. The results were surprising and the Heckler and Koch G36 Assault Rifle, which was in use by the German Army came out as the overall winner.

Although the G36 was an excellent rifle, there were some problems with it. There were less than million of these rifles built at the moment and even with wartime conditions and factories working around the clock to produce arms and other materiel, there was no way that they could manufacture enough rifles to keep up with the military's necessities in time. To make things worse, the magazines (1) for the G36 were not compatible with any other rifle.

As a result, a compromise was made. Heckler and Koch would instead upgrade the existing M-4/16 rifles, which had scored second in the competition with its HK416 design already in development. This would be economical since they would not have to build an entirely new rifle and would only have to modify the millions of existing M-4/16 rifles that were already in existence.

Thus, the M-4A2 and the M-16A5 were born. Although superficially, it looked similar to the M-4A1 or the M-16A4 respectively, technically it was a whole different story. It used a short stroke piston gas system that made cleaning easier and less frequent. Along with numerous internal upgrades, it incorporated a modular rail system on the rifle to allow flashlights, handgrips, grenade launchers, bipods, and other military accessories to be mounted directly onto the rifle with ease. It was much more accurate since it incorporated a Tritium (2) laser reflex sight as opposed to the iron sights (3) used on the earlier models of the M-4/16.

"Yeah. I agree with you. I miss the old M16. It feels much more comfortable in my hands," he replied, agreeing with the Sergeant. "What do you think about Watkins?" Sanders asked, curious to see what his senior NCO thought about the officer.

"Watkins? He's a good kid. His heart is in the right place. He'll shape up," the NCO responded confident in the young officer.

"I hope so," Sanders replied sighing once more. Masters didn't have to deal directly with him, but he did.

"Excuse me, Captain. Do you have a moment?" Chelsea Somerville asked nervously as she stood behind him.

"Yes Ms. Somerville I do," he answered. "Excuse me Top, but duty calls," he told the Sergeant, giving him a look that he did not look forward to this.

"Hey, I'm just Sergeant. Do what you have to do," he said shrugging glad that it was not his problem and turned back to cleaning his rifle.

"Captain Sanders, um … what are we going to do about dinner?" she asked, her stomach was growling. She hadn't eaten since morning and that had just been crumpets and marmalade.

"Follow me," he told her and walked to his Bradley and pulled out two brown packets along with a portable heater and a pot from inside the vehicle.

"This is a MRE or Meal Ready to Eat, the standard military ration of the Terran Military," he told her. Looking at the two labels of the two that he had brought out to see what they were he asked, "Which would you like; Hamburger patty or grilled beefsteak with mushroom gravy?"

"The hamburger patty please," picking to her what seemed to be the lesser of two evils.

He tossed the one marked as a hamburger to her and then proceeded to open his own and showed her the contents. "The MRE comes with a main course, side dish, dessert, cracker, spread, beverage powder which is most often Tang, coffee powder, and utensils."

Turning on the portable heater on low, he dumped water into the pot and placed it on top of the heater. "Your main course please," he asked.

Chelsea handed him her food, not knowing what he was going to do. Sanders then proceeded to drop both of their meals in the pot. "The MRE can be eaten right out of the box or hot. It tastes a lot better hot," he explained.

After ten minutes, Sanders decided that the meals were as hot as they were going to get and grabbed both meals out of the water. "Here's your meal back. Ma'am," he said as he gave her meal.

Chelsea then opened the packaging on her meal and grabbed her utensils, ready to eat.

"You might want to put some Tabasco sauce on it," he told her.

"Err. No thanks," she replied. Although she grew up in Britain, she hated spicy food especially curry found in many Indian restaurants that her parents often frequented.

"Suit yourself," Sanders shrugged. If she wanted to be stubborn and learn the hard way, then so be it.

Chelsea quickly cut a piece of the patty with her fork and knife as she was taught in public school (4) and put a piece in her mouth and began to chew. Five seconds later, as soon as she tasted what she was eating, she spit the contents out of her mouth and on to the ground. "What is this shite?" she asked insulted, thinking that it was practical joke. The food tasted like cardboard!

"That is your standard military ration, the MRE, standing for Meals Ready to Eat," replied Sanders soberly. "Also known as Meals Rejected by Everyone, Meals Rejected by Ethiopians, and my favorite MR. E's," Sanders finished off his statement with a grin.

"Are you serious?" she asked. All around her everyone was cracking up. She had heard the horror stories of military rations, however at the time she had figured that they were just urban legends.

"Yes. Now do you understand why you should put Tabasco on the burger?"

"Yes," she replied. She figured that having ones mouth burn as a result of flavor was better than eating something that tasted like cardboard.

"You know that if they served these at prisons, the prisoners would be immediately released as a result of cruel and unusual punishment," he told her, commenting on the quality and taste of the food.

Embarrassed by her outburst Chelsea ate the rest of her food in silence, hoping not to cause another incident and make a fool out of herself again.

After seeing that Ms. Somerville had finished her meal, Sanders once again approached her. "Ma'am I'm sorry about that. I should have told you about the taste before you began eating," he apologized.

"Captain, there is no need to apologize. I should have known. I have heard the horror stories about military rations before from my father. I thought that they were just made up."

"Your father?" Sanders asked dumbfounded. She didn't look like a military brat to him.

"My father's a Major in the Territorial Army, the British version of your National Guard or Reserves. He got called up a couple of months ago," she replied.

"Well Ms. Somerville, to show my apologies to the daughter of a superior officer, I have decided to give this to you as a token of my sorrow," he said pulling out something from his ACU. "Catch," he ordered just before he threw it to her.

She caught the object, examined it and found it to be an American Snickers bar.

"Open it. Its not going to do any good if it just sits there," he told her.

She needed no further encouragement and quickly opened the candy bar, taking a big bite out of it. The taste was orgasmic, its sweet and gooey insides tantalizing every taste bud for the full effect and taste. Compared to the bland-tasting MRE, the Snickers bar was like heaven. Although she was not a fan of American sweets, this was one of the best candies she had eaten in her life.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, curious at how the Captain possessed such items millions of miles away from home.

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies. Good night Ms. Somerville. We have a very busy day tomorrow," he told her.

"Call me Chelsea, Captain."

"Fine. Good night then Chelsea."

"Good night Captain."

* * *

**March 6 Dawn**

"All right ladies beauty sleep is over. Its time to get to work!" Sanders announced loudly to his sleeping men, rousing them from their slumber.

At his announcement the sleeping men of his company awoke, although groggily and proceeded to get ready for the day's work.

"Now that you're finally awake, we've got a hard days work ahead of us. Recon drones have reported that the Ori are around a day, two days at the most away from our position. Because of this, we are going to spend all day today fortifying the area," he told the still sleepy platoon.

"Captain, are we going to get any support from Echo Company," a soldier asked, hoping that the engineers would help.

"Negative Private. Echo and Alpha companies have their own positions to fortify. However if were lucky the tankers of Charlie and Delta companies will be able to assist us, once they finish camouflaging their tanks."

At this, his men groaned since they would have little or no help in their work today.

"Although you don't like working now, you'll be thankful later. A well-fortified position is what we're going to need against those Ori sons of bitches when they attack. This is what we're going to do…"

**Around Noon**

"Well Captain, looks like you've got things under control," remarked Jenkins.

"Well sir we better. I don't want the fucking Ori to overrun our position," remarked Sanders, panting hard, trying to catch his breath after doing hard manual labor alongside his men for the entire morning.

All around him, the men of Bravo Company were stripped down to their undershirts or even bare-chested working. Some were busy digging and camouflaging foxholes, while others were disguising their Bradleys from view.

"What are you doing now?" Jenkins asked.

"First platoon and I are going to seed the area with Claymores and C4 to make the area the Ori's worst nightmare," he replied, showing copper wiring in one hand and the explosives in the other.

"No wonder you requested so much explosives," Jenkins remarked, remembering the requisitions sheets filled out by Sanders before they left Earth.

"Well sir, I prefer landmines but unfortunately we can't use them," he grumbled, remembering the international treaty banning the use of landmines. "Claymores attached to trip wire will have do," he replied.

"That's what I was going to talk to you about."

"You mean that the politicians won't let us use Claymores?" he asked incensed. More of his men would now die since the politicians had now taken away one of the few advantages that they had over the alien bastards.

"Calm down. It's the exact opposite. As of yesterday March 5, the Legislature has voted to rescind the Geneva Conventions for the duration of the war."

"What in the hell convinced them do that?" asked Sanders, amazed. This was completely out of character for them.

"I guess that the threat of total annihilation or subjugation really got to them." Jenkins mused philosophically. He shrugged, not caring. "Anyways, back onto subject. Orders are to arm your reporter."

"Sir?" Although Chelsea was all right for a civilian reporter the thought of a civilian running around armed with a loaded weapon sent shudders down his spine.

"You heard me."

"She's a civilian and she's European. (5) She probably doesn't know the difference between a breach and a barrel!" Sanders protested.

"Chances are, she's not going to use it anyways. And if she does, then we'll have more than enough to worry about it. Give her a sidearm. I have a spare M9."

"Sir, with all due respect, if she really has to use it then she'll need something with a hell of a lot more punch than a 9mm pistol. I doubt that the rounds will be able to pierce the Ori's personal armor. I'll give her a Colt M911 .45 ACP."

"Are you sure about that? There's only one of those in your company."

"Its about time that I learn how to use my MP-7 anyways." Sanders shrugged. The Army was busy phasing out its Beretta 92F, commonly known as the M9 in exchange for the MP-7 PDW and Sanders' company was one of the few units to receive them before going into combat.

"You have one right?"

"Yeah. It's still in its box though. It's a virgin gun, haven't even fired a single shot on it."

"Well it won't be virgin gun pretty soon. Listen I've got to go back to HQ. I'll see you later Captain."

"You too sir." Jenkins got back into his Humvee and drove back to his headquarters to plan for the upcoming Ori assault that was sure to be coming tomorrow.

Sanders grabbed his Claymores, wiring and walked to his Bradley where Chelsea was sitting down writing. "Ms. Somerville, a moment of your time please."

"Yes what is it?" she asked, puzzled at the Captain's sudden formality.

"Remember when I told you that since you were a journalist, you were not to be armed."

"Yes."

"Well that's changed."

"Are you drafting me now?"

"Not exactly. Ma'am, the Terran Legislature has just elected to throw out the Geneva Conventions for the duration of the war. That means that you can now be officially classified as a combatant."

"Why would the Legislature want to do that?"

"Right now, the politicians are beginning to panic since they just realized the reality of the war."

"What do you mean?"

"The tactical situation is not good at all. Right now we have one planet versus the forces of an entire galaxy. And those forces outnumber us at least twenty to one here on Chulak. We need every advantage that we can get and exploit. If we loose, there isn't going to be some peace treaty signed in Paris or Geneva. The objective of the Ori is to subjugate or annihilate. We'll either be forced to convert to their religion or most likely will be wiped out to the last."

"Surely our allies, the Tok'ra, the Jaffa and the Asgard can help."

"Ma'am no matter how much assistance that we get from our allies we're going to have to bear the brunt of the war. Tok'ra although very advanced, have less than a thousand people in their population. They don't even have enough people to muster an entire combat brigade.

"The Jaffa, although they have around a billion people they can't really do much. They're a race of warriors and only warriors. They don't have any scientists and live in a pre-industrial age environment and have no industrial base. That means that for every ship, zat and staff weapon they loose will be lost permanently. Pretty soon, they'll be dependent on us to provide weapons for the fight.

"The Asgard, they are advanced but they too are a small race. They can help, but they live in a different galaxy than we do, so they can only send a small percentage of their already small fleet. Coming down to it, it's going to be mainly Earth and only Earth's fight."

Chelsea sat there stunned. She hadn't considered the consequences to Earth loosing this war. Bloody hell, she hadn't even though about the events that were going to happen in the next year or so.

"To get back to the reason why I wanted to talk to you, you are going to be carrying a sidearm as long as you're in a combat zone." He pulled out his sidearm slowly out of his thigh holster, in order not to scare her. " This is the Colt M1911 semi-automatic pistol. You will be issued this pistol for the duration of your time here on Chulak. I assume that your father taught you how to use a firearm?"

"Yes. However that was years ago," she replied, trying to remember the last time her father had taken her and her mother shooting at one of the military bases.

"All right, let me re-familiarize yourself with how a pistol works." Pointing to the small lever on the grip, he told her, "This is the magazine catch. When you press this lever, the magazine will fall out of the pistol and can replaced with a full one." He then demonstrated, catching the magazine as it came out of the pistol.

"To reload the pistol, just insert the magazine back into the grip," he said as he put the magazine back into the pistol. "However, to arm the pistol you have to pull back the slide to cock it." He pulled back the top of pistol, making the distinctive _chik-chik_ sound of a gun being cocked.

"The safeties are in two places. The first is right next to the hammer." He pointed to the lever at the rear of the gun. "This allows the gun to be safe when it is in your holster," he explained. "The second safety is behind the grip. This allows you to keep your pistol safe when you are holding it." He pointed to the large button like object at the back of the grip. "If one or both of these safeties are engaged, then the weapon will not fire. You have to disable both safeties in order to discharge your weapon," he explained.

He handed her the weapon, which was already safe. "Here you try what I just showed you."

Chelsea fumbled with the weapon, trying to mimic what the Captain had done and meanwhile trying to regain some of the muscle memory that had not been used in years. After loading, unloading and reloading the magazine ten times, she quickly got accustomed to it.

"For aiming the pistol, line up the rear sight at the back of pistol with the sight in the front. To fire, disengage the safeties and pull the trigger. Only use this weapon when you are less than 100m from the enemy. Anything longer, and you might as well be shooting at the sky. Since given the area that we are in, I cannot permit you to fire live rounds for practice. Lets hope that you'll never have to use it." Sanders took off his holster and asked, "Are you left or right handed?"

"Right."

Sanders then proceeded to fasten the holster on her right thigh. "Keep this on you at all times. You'll never know when you'll need it."

"Oh and another thing. This pistol is not the property of the Army. This pistol belongs to me. It's been in my family for over sixty years. My grandfather used it in World War II and Korea, my father used it in Vietnam and I've used it in Iraq. In my family, this pistol is somewhat of a good luck charm."

He pointed to slide where a large nick was present. "When my grandfather was a Lieutenant fighting in the 101st Airborne in siege of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge, this pistol deflected a German bullet aimed straight at his heart, thus saving his life from certain death.

"After that no one in my family since then has ever been wounded in battle. My father was in Vietnam during the Tet offensive and didn't even get a scratch on him the entire time he was there. I fought my way to Baghdad in the 3rd Infantry Division and didn't even get a paper cut. Perhaps some of its luck will rub off you."

"Why are you giving me this?" she asked, wondering why the Captain would loan her, a total stranger such a precious item.

'Two reasons; one I don't want you to die; and second I want you to have a decent side arm. The standard issue M9 pistol won't cut it against the Ori. Besides, I already have a new sidearm, the MP-7 Personal Defense Weapon and it's about time that I learn how to use it."

Sanders grabbed his claymores and wiring and joined First Platoon as they began to seed the area with explosives in anticipation for the attack to come.

* * *

**March 7 Morning**

"Recon drones report that the Ori are less than ten minutes away from our position. Drones estimate that the enemy strength is around two large battalions. Let's show these bastards what we're made out of. HUA!" radioed Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins from his Headquarters as he addressed the men of his battalion.

"You heard the Colonel. The bastards are coming down on our position. We've trained for this moment for a long time. Remember your training. Stick to your axis of fire. Set your rifles on three round burst or single shot only. If you go full auto, your ass is mine. Bradley crews do not fire until I give the okay. You are our trump card and I don't want it revealed too soon. Men…I'm honored to be your company commander and I wouldn't be anywhere else in this universe besides right here, next to you, watching your flank and you watching mine. Lets avenge those who we lost," he told his men.

The men of Bravo Company lay silent and still in their camouflaged positions as they waited for the enemy to attack. Time passed by slowly, each second lasting an eternity.

Sanders turned to Chelsea Somerville, who was laying directly to his left. Despite his objections, she had decided to be with Bravo Company to witness the skirmish. "Chelsea, I want you to keep you head down at all times. Trying to risk your life for a better view of the battle is stupid and suicidal. Cover your ears. This is going to get really loud," he whispered.

An Ori soldier appeared from the forest ahead of them. And another soon followed. And another. After thirty seconds, over three hundred Ori soldiers had appeared with more coming every second.

Disregarding all common sense they charged, yelling out battle cries and letting the entire planet know where they were.

_Like lambs to the slaughter_ Sanders thought. These people had no military sense at all.

_CRACK!_ One of the battalion's snipers had just fired his weapon, putting a 7.62 X 51 mm round in one of the warrior's heads. The soldier stood for a second as if he was not affected in any way and then suddenly fell to the ground dead as a doornail.

All of the battalion's attached twelve-man sniper section opened fire and began to pick off the enemy one by one.

Incensed, the Ori just charged harder and faster toward the battalion, intent on destroying in what they believed to be apostates and heretics.

_They're going to cross… right…. about… now._

_Boom!_ One of the Ori had just tripped on the trip wire, activating one of the many Claymores hidden in the area. It exploded, killing ten and injuring fifteen more.

"OPEN FIRE!" he radioed his company.

Needing no further bidding, Bravo Company with the exception of its Bradleys returned the favor.

Sanders aimed his rifle at the nearest enemy that he could see and pulled the trigger, sending three bullets at the enemy. Upon being hit, the soldier dropped like a sack of potatoes, never to rise again.

The Ori after two minutes had finally realized what was going on and began to fight back. However by this time, they were down to 40 percent of their original number. To make things worse their enemies were well concealed and they could not make out their positions very effectively.

Sanders had just changed his now empty magazine for the fourth time for a full one. Spying a cluster of Ori, he reached into his ammunition pouch and grabbed a 20mm grenade round and loaded it into his M320 grenade launcher attached directly underneath the barrel of his M-4.

Taking careful aim, he fired the grenade in the middle of where the enemy was clustered. The grenade burst in midair, sending shrapnel everywhere killing more of the enemy. Not taking a moment to enjoy the fruits of his success, Sanders quickly found another target for his weapon and fired once again.

After twenty minutes of intense fighting, the tattered remains of the Ori force began to retreat. With over 80 percent of their forces wiped out, the only thing that they could do was run.

Even as the enemy began to move out of range, some diehard members of his Company had decided to keep on firing at the enemy, hoping to kill some more Ori before they completely went out of range and sight.

"Cease fire. You're wasting ammunition," he ordered. Ammunition was precious here on Chulak. With the nearest munitions factory light years away from here, one could not depend on having a constant supply of ammo. He wasn't about to waste any by shooting at targets that he wasn't reasonably sure that he or his men could hit.

At once, the firing stopped and all was still once more. Sanders grinned. He didn't have to reveal the capabilities or presence of his Bradleys. He still had his trump card for the time being.

"Sir?" a voice asked from behind him.

Sanders turned around and looked at who was addressing him. It was Carmella, one of the Sergeants in his company. "Yes Sergeant?"

"First Sergeant Masters requests your presence sir."

"Tell him I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"Sir. He wants you there now. Its urgent."

Knowing that Masters had a good reason to call him, Sanders grabbed his rifle and ran to Master's position fifty meters away from him.

"What's going on here?" he asked as he got there. A cluster of personnel had formed a circle around someone or something. Sanders knew what was probably going on, but asked for courtesy's sake.

"Sir. It's good that you're here. Its Watkins," Masters said as he saluted his superior officer.

"What happened?"

"You should see for yourself sir."

The crowd parted to reveal a messy sight.

Second Lieutenant Harold Watkins lay on the ground mortally wounded. A large gaping hole the size of a Frisbee now occupied what used to be his left pectoral. Beside him, medics tried valiantly to keep him alive.

"Captain…" he croaked as he tried to salute.

"I'm here Lieutenant. You're going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure the platoon commander. It had been a long time since he had to go through this.

"Don't lie … to me… sir. I know I'm a goner," he replied stubbornly, his face deathly ashen, from the lack of blood.

Sanders turned to a medic. "Give me some morphine right now," he ordered.

"Shoulda… kept my head down… like you told me to. At least I got three or four before I got hit though," he smiled ruefully.

"Lieutenant, I'm going to give you some morphine. You won't feel a thing." At least Watkins would die painlessly from a narcotic-induced bliss. It was the least he could do.

"Capt'n… One last thing… before I go. Tell my momma… that I died well. Tell her… that I died fighting," he breathed.

Sanders stuck a needle into Watkins' right arm. Immediately the morphine began to have an immediate effect. Watkins' face changed from one of agony and pain to happiness and delight.

Thirty seconds later, Harold Watkins, Second Lieutenant, of the Terran Federal Army breathed his last breath and lay still, fated to an endless slumber, from which he would never wake up.

"He's dead sir," one of the medics reported as he checked Watkins' pulse to officially declare his demise.

The medics then proceeded to grab a body bag, or human remains pouches as the Pentagon preferred to call them from one of the Bradleys, put him inside and zipped him up.

"How many other casualties are there?" he asked Masters, hoping that Watkins wasn't the only one, but knowing otherwise.

"We were lucky. Damned lucky. Watkins was the only fatality. We've got twenty wounded of various degrees though."

"Any of them serious?"

"Two of them. One of them lost a leg. Another lost an arm. We're calling in a chopper to MEDEVAC them back to base."

"Keep me updated on the situation," he said as he began to walk away.

"Will do sir."

Sanders walked to his Bradley, wishing that he had a cigarette. He'd quit two years ago after his grandfather died from lung cancer, vowing that he wouldn't die that way. However, as unhealthy as they were, they did have a tendency to calm his nerves.

"Is it always like this?" Chelsea Somerville asked still in a daze from the battle. She was still shaking even though the skirmish ended fifteen minutes ago. Her heart rate was racing and her body would not stay still.

Sanders fought back the urge to lash out at her. She didn't know that Watkins was now dead. Nor she or anyone else was the reason behind his death. They were at war, and in a war people died. "Yeah it is," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

"How do you deal with this, when it happens so constantly?"

Sanders sighed. How do you explain this to someone who didn't know what it was like to be a soldier? It was trying to explain to a robot, the meaning of taste. "You just get used to it. Everyone deals with it in a different way. After a while it becomes part of a routine, like waking up in the morning and brushing your teeth."

The sudden sound of artillery firing in the distance brought them back into the present. Despite the fact that the source of the noise was kilometers way, it was still very loud for civilian ears. Putting her hands over her ears, to shield out the noise, she asked, "What is that racket?"

"Looks like a position around ten klicks east of us is engaging the enemy?"

"But the battle has just ended here. Why would there be fighting in another area?" Chelsea stated confused.

"Chelsea, what just happened here wasn't a battle it was just a skirmish, a small conflict in a very large war. This war isn't about just us. There are millions of people just on this planet alone fighting this war," Sanders replied.

The _thock-thock_ of a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter's blades informed Sanders that the MEDEVAC that he had requested had arrived. "Excuse me, I've got to go," he said as he ran to the chopper.

As he got there, the men had just finished putting the first wounded man into the chopper and were getting ready to put the second one in. Already loaded inside the chopper, was the body bag containing Watkins' body.

He turned to the two wounded men who were now fully loaded inside the chopper. "Get well you two," he ordered.

Soon after, the chopper lifted off, having many more trips to make. Sanders stared at sky even after the chopper was long gone, remembering Watkins and knowing that he would only be the first of the many casualties that were to come.

Sanders turned his attention back to the situation at hand for there were many things to be done at the moment. They were at war and many would die.

No matter how good of a commander he was and how good his orders were, someone would always die following his instructions. The only thing that he could hope for was that the minimal amount of people would die following his commands.

Author's Notes

(1)- magazines are specifically designed to fit a certain rifle. Some rifles use the same magazines as others. An example of this is the magazine used by the M-4/16, SA-80 and the FAMAS. It is completely interchangeable with those rifles mentioned. However, this is often not the case.

(2)- Tritium, not Trinium is an isotope of hydrogen often used in mounted laser sights.

(3)- Iron sights is an open unmagnified aiming system used by many rifles.

(4)- In England, they teach you everything in school since many schools are boarding schools

(5)- I have nothing against Europeans. In Europe, gun laws are a lot stricter than in America, and thus the average person does not know how to use a weapon. Switzerland is the exception to this.


	5. Chapter 4

* * *

**March 15 Planet Dakara, Free Jaffa Nation, TFNS _Heihachiro Togo_ CIC **(1)

"_Herr Flottillenadmiral_, (2) emersion to real space in one minute," reported Krieger.

"Thank you Lieutenant. Commander Drossier, the status on our railguns?"

"Magazines are loaded and they are ready for action," replied the weapons officer.

"And the vertical launch tubes?"

"Missiles are prepped and ready to fire on your command."

"Excellent." Collingsworth, along with the rest of his crew then sealed the helmets on their vacuum suits. Although they were less bulky than the units used by astronauts in the late 20th and pre-bombardment 21st centuries, they were still unwieldy and uncomfortable to work with. However wearing those suits enabled the crew to function if the hull were to be breached in battle.

"Reversion to real space in five… four…. three… two … one."

Almost immediately as the _Togo _entered normal space, she shook violently as she was immediately hit with energy fire from all directions.

"What the bloody hell?" Collingsworth stated out loud, forgetting momentarily where he was.

"Telemetry reports that we're in the middle of a battlefield! There are 5 Ori Battlecruisers around Dakara!"

"Scramble all fighters! Engage railgun batteries at will! Commander Drossier I want a firing solution for our missiles two minutes ago!" ordered Collingsworth, taking command of the situation.

"Railgun batteries engaging enemy fighters," reported Drossier.

"And the firing solution?"

"The computer is still working on it. Estimated time until completion: One minute forty-five seconds."

"Dammit! Is there any way to speed up the process?"

"Negative."

"Fighters launching," Kearns notified the Admiral form one of the ship's hangar bays, via the inter-ship network.

"Shields holding at 68 percent. We can't take this much of a beating any longer sir," stated Van Gelder. "Sir, urgent communication signal from the _De Gaulle_!"

"Put it on immediately!" Collingsworth ordered. TFNS _Charles De Gaulle _BC-12 was Admiral Bichet's flagship, and according to telemetry, was in the middle of the Ori Fleet.

* * *

**TFNS _Charles De Gaulle_ Flag Bridge** (3)

Smoke permeated across the room. Dead and dying personnel lay littered across the room, their crimson blood soaking the _De Gaulle's _metallic deck. Its hull shuddered repeatedly as the Ori hit its hull relentlessly time after time.

Vice Admiral Pierre Bichet sat in his command chair, wounded in a dozen different places, his vacuum suit in tatters but still functioning, the last of his command crew to remain functional. "Rear Admiral Collingsworth, this is Admiral Bichet. As you can see, the _De Gaulle_ is heavily damaged, and has taken massive casualties, and thus is combat ineffective. As of now, you are now commanding Task Force 11."

"Sir, you and the _De Gaulle_ can fall back. The rest of the Task Force can cover for you as you make your way towards enemy lines," replied Collingsworth over the COM.

"Negative Admiral. We've lost too much of the crew and half of our engines are disabled. We won't be able to fall back to allied lines even if God himself orders it from heaven. We simply do not have the means to do so," Bichet responded revealing the predicament that he and his flagship were in. He continued, "Instead, the remaining crew and I are going to buy you and the rest of the Task Force some time to retreat back to the allied fleet. The plan is simple and straightforward. I have rerouted control of the entirety of the _De Gaulle_'s functions to my console on the Flag Bridge. All available power, including that used for life support and gravity will be diverted to our shields and engines allowing us to get as close to the enemy as possible. The reactor is set to critically overload in the next minute and half and will hopefully cause enough damage and discord to the enemy to let rest of the Task Force to escape their clutches. As soon as we start to approach the enemy, get the Task Force clear. Is that clear Admiral?" he asked the junior officer, knowing that he had just sealed his fate and had passed on the reigns of command to the junior Admiral.

"Yes sir." Although Collingsworth was hundreds of kilometers away, Bichet could still hear the emotion in his subordinate's voice.

"Admiral, although we did not know each other very long. It was an honor to serve with you. Take care of my people," Bichet told him and then immediately terminated the communication channel for the last time.

"All power has been diverted to the main engines and shields. Engines activated. Now approaching preprogrammed coordinates," the ships computer told him, in the familiar annoyingly monotone female voice commonly known by countless pilots and military personnel as 'Bitching Betty.'

Bichet could feel the _De Gaulle_ move underneath him as the main engines began to bring his flagship directly towards the enemy fleet.

Enemy fire began to rake the ship with more intensity and furor, shaking the hull more violently than before. Eventually the shields overloaded and dissipated and the now bare superstructure of the _De Gaulle_ began to be torn asunder. However the damage was superfluous for the _De Gaulle _stayed on course.

"Reactor overload in thirty seconds."

"Soon _mas belles_ _femmes_(4) I shall join you at last," Bichet said out loud to no one in particular, thinking of his beautiful wife and two lovely teenage daughters that had lost in what he considered to be ages ago.

"Reactor overload in ten seconds."

"_Vive humanité_!" (5) Bichet yelled at the top of his lungs.

TFNS _Charles De Gaulle_ and the 1500 men and women aboard vanished into oblivion as its naquahdah reactor detonated taking an Ori Battlecruiser along with it into the void.

Vice Admiral Pierre Jacques Bichet of the Terran Federal Navy was finally reunited with his loved ones… for all eternity.

* * *

**_Heihachiro Togo_**

"My God…" Collingsworth breathed as he saw the devastation caused by the _De Gaulle_ upon the enemy. He turned to his communications officer. "Lieutenant Van Gelder open a com channel to the Task Force."

"All units, this is Admiral Collingsworth. I am taking command of the fleet. All units retreat towards allied lines. Lets not let the _De Gaulle_'s sacrifice be in vain. Over."

"Sir Flotilla Commander Dagr is on the line."

"Put him on," Collingsworth ordered. According to the intelligence reports that he had read, Dagr was the commander of the Asgard task force assigned to assist the Jaffa.

"Greetings Admiral. You have my condolences on your superior's demise. It appears that you require assistance. Inform you subordinate commanders to stay out of our axis of fire as they retreat," the Asgard commander said as he electronically sent the flotilla's targeting data to the _Togo_'s CIC.

"Aye aye. Mr. Van Gelder send the targeting information to the entire task force," Collingsworth responded as he terminated the transmission

He then quickly turned to face his XO, "Commander Fujimaki, effective immediately you are now the Commanding Officer of this ship. Retreat as ordered and stay out of the Asgard flotilla's axis of fire. Inform the crew on the Flag Bridge that I will be arriving momentarily."

Collingsworth released the protective harnesses on his command chair and vacated the seat reserved for the Commanding Officer of the vessel in favor of Fujimaki, the present Captain of the _Togo_ and quickly exited the CIC and ran to the Flag Bridge located two decks below.

* * *

**Dakara Space**

"Admiral Collingsworth is ordering a general retreat towards allied lines. Orders are to keep them off of their backs as they retreat," Commander Fyodor Sundov, CO of VF-84 "Jolly Rodgers" informed his squadron.

A former Major in the Russian Air Force, he was among of the pilots who flew in the defense of Earth and was one of the few who survived.

Following the battle and the formation of the Terran Federal Republic, he and his surviving comrades were immediately transferred into the Navy. Eager to utilize its newly acquired combat veterans to the fullest extent immediately separated them and assigned them to training commands across Earth to teach the next generation of aviators the art of space combat.

Sundov was one of the few veterans that had a combat billet. The brass had decided to integrate some of its veterans into active duty combat squadrons in order to make sure that the they wouldn't be throwing squadrons completely made up of rookies against the enemy.

"_Collingsworth_? Shit! What kind of cluster fuck have we landed in?" exclaimed Lieutenant Abraham Lee, Sundov's wingman.

"Cut the chatter. We're going in. Form up on your wingman. Remember conserve your fuel, this is not atmospheric combat."

While the engines stationed on the F-302 were reactionless and were designed to circumvent the laws of physics in space, they were built with purely Terran components. While they were much more advanced than any Terran fighter before it, compared to other craft used by the other galactic powers they were outright crude.

The F-302 while easy to produce with the Terran pre war industrial and technological base had a nasty tendency to wear out very quickly under prolonged and stressful combat operations. This was proven during the First Battle of Earth when F-302s flown by pilots operating continuous sorties against Ori forces would become uncontrollable after their engines broke down, becoming ballistic projectiles hurtling into space. (6)

Unfortunately the military's inventory only contained the unimproved F-302s at the moment. While they possessed dangerous design flaws and would never be allowed in peacetime, the Defense Ministry and the Joint Chiefs decided that having some space capable strike fighters was better than none and ordered 2,000 of them to be produced.

However according to one of Sundov's friend and colleague stationed at a test facility on the moon, an improved F-302 which remedied those problems was to be put into mass production soon and a next generation fighter was in development by Sukhoi. (7)

The squadron's eight strike fighters ignited their engines and accelerated towards their foes, vengeance solely on their minds.

* * *

**_Togo _Flag Bridge**

"Admiral on deck!" the speaker intoned as Collingsworth entered the Flag Bridge.

In the Terran Navy, every single of the _Daedalus_-class Flight II (8) Battlecruisers contained a Flag Bridge for the sole purpose of providing a Flag Officer the ability to effectively coordinate and lead his or her forces on the battlefield.

Normally they were not in use since in a task force or a fleet there were few Flag Officers assigned to the said units. Thus it required few of these facilities to be activated at a single time. Under the late Admiral Bichet's orders, he had ordered Collingsworth to activate the _Togo's_ flag bridge in order to ensure that in the event of an emergency that the chain of command can function effectively.

"What is the tactical situation?" Collingsworth asked as he stared at the holographic Flag Plot, which showed the position of every known ship in Dakara space.

"The Task Force has completed its retreat sir," reported Commander Dabeet Chandra, Collingsworth's N-3 operations officer.

In addition to activating the _Togo_'s Flag Bridge, Collingsworth was assigned a staff to insure that in the demise or other incapacitation of Bichet and his staff, Collingsworth would be able to command the Task Force effectively.

"Status on the Task Force?"

"_Zhukov, Kuznetsov, Nimitz _and _Nelson_ all have minor damage and are all around 90 functional. _Yamamoto _has more damage and its missile launchers are disabled damage control parties are working on getting the launchers back on line. _Togo_ is the least damaged and is 95 functional."

"Did Captain Beck report when his missile launchers will be functional again?"

"He estimates that it will take at least half an hour."

"Tell him to pull back to the rear of the task force. Without his missiles, he's a sitting duck out there. Inform the Task Force to only use their missiles to engage enemy capital ships. Railguns are to be use for anti Strike fighter defense, if we use them against capital ships we might as well be shooting spitwads."

"Aye aye, sir."

"And the fighters?"

"All the fighters have been launched from the surviving starships and have been equipped for Strike fighter on Strike fighter combat. To our benefit, a squadron was able to get off the _De Gaulle_ before she was destroyed."

"Estimated time to engagement?"

"Two minutes."

"When will the Furies be able to engage?" As said in the briefing, the Ori Fighters had smaller weapon range than their Terran counterparts and could only fight in short range.

"In 6 minutes."

"We better make the most of those four minutes then," Collingsworth stated with a feral grin on his face.

"Yes Admiral we will," Chandra replied, with a ghoulish smile.

* * *

**Dakara Space**

"We are going to be entering extreme weapons range in the next thirty seconds. Engage as many targets as you can. The Ori fighters cannot engage at this range and lets make the most of this advantage as we can. Use only your AMRAAMs. (9) Save your Sidewinders (10) for close combat. Check your IFF (11) there are allied fighters out there," Sundov ordered his squadron.

"Rodger wilco," radioed his squadron members, confirming the orders that they had just heard.

Sundov activated his radar and looked through his Helmet Mounted Display (12) choosing a target from the many fighters approaching his position. He then selected one AIM-120 AMRAAM medium range missiles and launched at them at the target.

Using his peripheral vision, he could see the other F-302s in the Task Force launch their missiles at the enemy. Over two hundred missiles leapt towards the enemy like hawks diving down to claim their prey.

"Come on you Amraamski," (13) Sundov breathed, as he watched the missiles accelerate towards their targets, hoping that they would reach their targets.

Then suddenly to Sundov's delight, heavens began light up like fireworks on the annual Victory Day (14) celebrations in Sundov's native Russia. Many of the approaching targets disappeared off of the radar as they vanished from existence.

"Here they come!" exclaimed pilot, as the fighters from both sides rushed to meet each other.

"Separate into pairs!" Sundov ordered. The squadron's eight fighters at once ceased to fly in squadron formation and dissolved into four pairs of two.

The Ori fighters, much reduced in numbers from the first missile volley although still great in number open fire with their energy weapons as soon as they got to maximum weapons range, intent on avenging their comrades.

Twelve F-302s exploded as enemy fire found their mark. Immediately, the remaining fighters launched a second volley of missiles, using up the last of their AMRAAMs.

As the two sides met, the fight escalated into a full-fledged melee, each fighting for dominance over the other.

Sundov was now down to only a third of his missile load and all of them were short ranged. Looking through his HUD, he saw a lone Fury located at the very edge of the battle separated from any support that its fellows could provide.

"Cover me," he ordered Lee.

"Affirmative."

Dodging and juking to avoid enemy fire Sundov and Lee approached their target. As they entered the maximum weapons range for his Sidewinder, he held his fire. Opting instead to wait until he could get a more accurate shot.

The Ori fighter only now realizing that he was being tracked tried valiantly to evade both Lee and Sundov. Although it was more maneuverable and faster than the F-302s that were flown by the two Terran pilots, it had realized the presence of the two pilots too late.

Now having a solid lock on the enemy craft, Sundov armed and fired a Sidewinder missile at the enemy. The missile launched leaving a solid contrail as it left Sundov's F-302.

The Ori fighter not realizing that it had a missile behind it, made no attempt to shake the incoming missile off of its tail. The missile's warhead, once the missile had reached the enemy craft detonated sending the fighter and its occupant into oblivion.

Sundov smiled in satisfaction as he saw the demise of his foe. _Now I have at least one kill marking to paint on my fighter. Providing that I survive the battle of course._ He thought to himself.

"Commander I got a bogey on my tail!" yelled Lee, his voice full of panic as he sought to evade the enemy energy weapons fire. During the fight another enemy fighter had snuck behind Sundov and Lee, hoping to catch them off guard.

"Accelerate and break right!" Sundov ordered, his voice indicating that this was no time for a disagreement.

Lee put the engines on his fighter to full power and quickly passed Sundov. Decreasing the engines power to allow for a stable turn, Lee executed a textbook-style sharp turn to the right with the Ori fighter right on his tail.

What the Ori fighter did not notice was that this put him right in front of Sundov's fighter and was well in his missile range.

Sundov armed a second Sidewinder and launched them at this enemy.

The missile like the one before hit its mark, turning the second Ori fighter into space debris like its comrade.

_That's two._ Sundov then proceeded to reform up on his wingman.

Noticing that he was out of missiles, he turned on his com. "Jolly Rodgers this is lead. Break off and return to the _Togo _for rearmament and refueling," he ordered. By now most of squadron was in a situation similar Sundov's with most of their missiles spent after the fight.

Reforming to their squadron commander, the six surviving fighters of VF-84 "Jolly Rodgers" accelerated to back to the _Togo_.

* * *

**TFNS _Heihachiro Togo _Flag Bridge**

"Fighters are now returning," reported Chandra.

"Kill to loss ratio?" Collingsworth asked concerned about how well his fighters fared against the enemy in their first engagement.

"Seven to one. The Ori fighter force was almost annihilated," Chandra replied putting Collingsworth's fears to rest.

"Excellent. What is the status on the enemy fleet?"

"Out of the original six Battlecruisers at the start of the battle, only three remain."

"What is the status of the magazines on board all the ships in the Task Force with the exclusion of _Yamamoto_?"

"Each vessel still has at least fifteen missiles in its vertical launch tubes sir," Chandra reported.

"Tell them to get a firing solution on the Ori Battlecruiser between the one farthest from our position and closest to us. They are not to fire unless I give orders to do so."

"Sir?"

"I want the fighters to be rearmed for an Anti-shipping strike. Arm them with the Armageddons." (15)

"The Armageddons are still prototypes sir. We still don't know if they'll be able to crack through their shields and through their hull!" objected Chandra.

"Commander, the purpose for a prototype is to test it out. Where but the battlefield are we able to get a proper test? Considering the fact that our missiles are near useless against the enemy, what harm could it do?"

"Yes sir," Chandra replied, although still uncomfortable with the idea.

"Once the fighters are launched, the Task Force will expend the last missiles that it has in its tubes at the Ori Battlecruiser. With the middle Battlecruiser destroyed, the first and third Battlecruisers will not be able to support one another due to the distance away from the two. The fighters will then execute an anti shipping strike against the enemy, which will either do one of two things. This will either destroy the enemy ships, ending the battle. Or this will severely weaken the enemy shields to the point where Tok'ra, Jaffa, and Asgard forces can finish up what we started."

"Understood sir," Chandra responded this time with certainty, now knowing what his superior was planning.

* * *

**TFNS _Heihachiro Togo_ Hangar Bay One**

Sundov and the rest of his squadron sat at the hangar watching the techs and other maintenance personnel rearm their fighters for another strike against the Ori. As the techs loaded another missile on to a F-302, Sundov took a long gulp of some cool electrolyte beverage, savoring its lemony flavor as it went down his throat. Lee had told him that it was Gatorade, but Sundov didn't care. To him all of that stuff was the same.

Suddenly the techs began to remove the missiles than they had just attached to the fuselages of their Mongooses. Puzzled Sundov stood up and grabbed his helmet lying on the floor next to him, tucked underneath his arm and then walked towards the crewmen, or crewwoman in this case.

Approaching the tech nearest to him, he looked at the person's uniform to discern her name and rank. "Petty Officer O'Reilly what the hell is going on?" he asked confused at why their fighters were stripped of their missiles.

"I don't know sir. I'm just doing my job," Petty Officer Third Class Kathleen O'Reilly replied.

"On whose orders?"

"Those orders would be mine," a familiar voice behind Sundov said out loud.

Sundov quickly spun on his heel and executed an about face and saluted Commander Kearns. Although they shared the same rank and were technically equals, Sundov's date of rank was vastly junior to Kearns and in addition, Kearns was higher up in the chain of command than he was.

"At ease Commander," Kearns said as he returned Sundov's salute.

"Sir why are we disarming the fighters?"

"Orders from Admiral Collingsworth. The Mongooses are to be rearmed for an anti shipping strike. In addition, he has ordered that we use the Armageddons on this strike."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

The FSM-5 Armageddon was the first generation Strike fighter-portable long range cruise missile designed for use against enemy starships. Unlike their predecessors, which had conventional, nuclear, or nuclear-enhanced warheads installed inside its fuselage, the Kamikaze was armed with an antimatter warhead with made its explosive potential in the mid gigaton (16) range, surpassing even the missiles, which were _only_ in the high megaton/ low gigaton (17) range in use by the _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers.

Unfortunately, the weapons were still in the development phase, albeit they were in the last phases and were slated for mass production in the immediate future. The brass had ordered the 100 prototypes to be assigned to the Task Force to gauge its effectiveness on the battlefield before committing massive amounts of its valuable Naquahdah reserve for the weapons. The missiles were so large that an F-302 Mongoose could only carry two of them in flight with no armament to defend itself from the enemy and to make things worse for the pilot the mass of the missiles severely hampered the Mongoose's maneuverability, making it a prime target for enemy fire.

"Fuck."

"You said it."

"Do we have any escort?" Sundov asked hoping that they would get some support from the other squadrons. He and his squadron would be literally flying naked for this sortie and would appreciate as much support as it could get.

"Admiral Collingsworth has ordered half the squadrons to be equipped with AMRAAMs and Sidewinders to support those who are making the strike."

"When will we be ready to launch?"

"Ten to fifteen minutes. Do whatever you have to do, but be ready to go when its time," Kearns then walked away from Sundov, for his duties called him elsewhere.

When Sundov returned to his squadron, he saw that Lee and the rest of its members were eager to know what was going on.

"Hey Skipper what's the scuttlebutt?" he asked as he pointed to the techs that were in the process of attaching two very long missiles each of the Jolly Rodger's Mongooses.

"The current mission plans are scrapped. We're going to executing an anti-shipping strike against the remaining Ori Battlecruisers."

"Why are the techs not arming us with any Sidewinders for defense?" asked Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Hiro Takahashi, one of Sundov's pilots.

"We're going to use the Armageddons."

"The brass must be really desperate." Lee replied.

"Quiet Lieutenant. Our mission is to fly within weapons range of the Kamikazes, launch them at the enemy and then get out of there. Half the squadrons are going to be armed with Kamikazes while the others will be flying support for us."

"Sounds like an easy op," Lee replied confident that this would go off without a hitch.

"Assuming that there isn't a second Ori fighter force waiting for us, ready to turn this into a disaster," Sundov said with typical Russian melancholy.

* * *

**TFNS _Heihachiro Togo _Flag Bridge**

"Fighters have been launched sir," Chandra reported to his commander.

"And the missiles?"

"Firing solution has been computed for every ship in the Task Force except for _Yamamoto_ as per your orders."

"Fire."

As per his command, fifty missiles, ten from each ship in the Task Force sprung forth from their launch tubes and shrieked toward the enemy Battlecruiser.

"Prepare for a second volley."

"Sir? We barely have enough missiles to launch a second volley. Half of the ships don't have ten missiles left in their launch tubes."

"Have every ship fire all of its remaining missiles at the target."

"Sir. If we do that we'll be completely defenseless against the Ori."

"Commander Chandra as Viscount Nelson once said, 'Our country will, I believe, sooner forgive an officer for attacking an enemy than for letting it alone.' Even if we fail in our attempt, we still have allied units on the field to assist us. Sometimes you have to throw it all into the wind and hope for the best."

"Yes sir. First volley of missiles approaching the target."

Collingsworth leaned over and stared at the holographic Flag Plot. The missiles identified as arrows on the plot neared the Ori Battlecruiser, which coincidentally was marked as an oval.

"Missiles have impacted the Battlecruiser. Forty-seven hits, three misses. Their shields have been severely weakened. Its is more than probable that the enemy's shields will collapse during the second volley."

"Excellent."

"Second volley. Approaching the target."

"Come on. Come on," he breathed hoping to break the enemy's shields.

42 missiles, the remainder of what the Task Force possessed impacted against the Ori Battlecruiser's hull overloading its shield capacity and breaking the ship in half.

"Target destroyed," Chandra said, trying to keep the jubilation out of his voice. The rest of the Flag Bridge erupted in a brief cheer as they watched the enemy break into pieces.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've done our job. Now its time for the fighters to do theirs," Collingsworth stated bringing them back to the current situation.

* * *

**Dakara Space**

"Five minutes to weapons range," the Mongoose's internal computer told Sundov.

Sundov sat in his cockpit, nervously looking around to see if they were any bogeys hidden, waiting to ambush him. The fact that he was carrying two very large anti-ship missiles that greatly hampered his maneuverability, one of the Mongoose's greatest strengths did not help him in the slightest.

In addition from the second he launched off of the _Togo_'s flight deck to the moment that he would land back on the _Togo_. He and his squadron would be literally flying naked, with no Strike fighter to strike fighter missiles to defend them from any ambush that the Ori had planned, which would be a fucking massacre.

"Jolly Rodger Lead to Swordsmen Lead. Come in," Sundov radioed Commander Carlson, the Commanding Officer of VF-32, the _other_ fighter squadron stationed on the _Togo_, which was assigned to escort the Jolly Rodgers on this op.

"Swordsmen Lead to Jolly Rodger Lead. What's up?"

"Any radar contacts?"

"Negative."

The fighters had been separated into two groups for the strike. Fighter Group One consisted of six squadrons, three carrying Kamikazes and three acting as escorts to keep any 'unwelcome visitors from interfering with their mission. They would be hitting the Ori Battlecruiser nearest to the Task Force.

Fighter Group Two, which Sundov's squadron was a part of, was assigned to hit the remaining Ori Battlecruiser, which was the farthest away from allied lines. The only difference between the two was that unlike group one, group two had _four_ squadrons flying escort for the strike, thus group two had seven squadrons as opposed to six.

"Wait a minute. I've got contacts. There are thirty, three-zero fighters approaching our position," reported a member of Carlson's squadron.

"Are they friendly or not?" Carlson asked, remembering that there were Jaffa Death Glider units out there.

"Hostile sir. IFF identifies them as Ori."

"Escort units. Break off and engage the enemy," ordered Carlson, who in addition to being a squadron commander, was also the most senior and thus was the _de facto _Commander of Fighter Group Two.

At once the twenty-seven fighters of the four escort squadrons of Fighter Group Two broke off from formation and flew in the direction of the enemy, hell-bent on engaging them.

"All right, listen up. As of now, we have no escorts to defend against any more enemy fighters that might pop up. We are three minutes from optimal weapons range. Once we get there, we are going to fire our missiles and as the Americans say, 'Get the Hell out of Dodge.'"

Three minutes slowly passed as if it was eternity for the pilots who were cautiously watching for fighters to pop up and ambush them at any moment.

"Target's in range. Fire at will!" Sundov ordered as he armed and fired his two Armageddon cruise missiles. Immediately after launching his missiles, his fighter felt much lighter after releasing its heavy and cumbersome cargo.

Thirty-four cruise missiles, each armed with enough firepower to destroy an entire continent glided through space at Mach 8 like a hawk swooping down to seize its prey.

The first eight impacted against the Ori Battlecruiser, but its shields still held as the ship's Prior struggled to keep the ships defenses online, a testament to the Prior's skill and faith in the Ori, the ascended beings that he believed to be holy.

However as more and more missiles impacted against the Battlecruiser, its shields began to fade. After the twelfth missile hit, the shields no longer held and totally collapsed, meaning that the ship's hull would now take the brunt of the damage. As the twentieth missile struck the Battlecruiser, it went up like the Fourth of July, going out with a bang.

Sundov reflexively took his hands off of the controls and used them to cover his eyes from the explosion. Slowly he put them down. What used to be the Ori Battlecruiser was now a thick stream of debris.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, mission accomplished lets go home!" he said jubilantly.

* * *

**Authors Notes**

(1)- CIC Combat Information Center, this is where the captain commands his or her ship.

(2)- The German equivalent for Rear Admiral

(3)- Flag Bridge this is where the Admiral coordinates the movements of the Task Force and issues orders on his Flag Ship. The Admiral does not command the Task Force or Fleet in the CIC for some very good reasons. One, if one combines CIC and Flag Bridge, the room would be extremely big and cumbersome. Two, this would provide a very juicy target for the enemy since _both_ the Admiral and the Captain are in the same place on the Flag Ship. Any hit to the CIC would mean that almost all of the senior officers are dead. Three, the Captain does like having an Admiral looking over his shoulder as he commands his ship. The Captain is the absolute sovereign commander of the _ship_ and the Admiral is commander of the Task Force of Fleet.

(4)- my beautiful women in French

(5)- Long Live Humanity

(6)- The F-302 has compensators but since they are built from the ground up, with Terran components, they tend to be a little unreliable since they are new to space combat

(7)- Sukhoi is an aircraft manufacturer that is based in Russia. Its most noteworthy products are the Su-27 series of Aircraft and the upcoming Su-47, which will be in direct competition with the JSF and the F-22.

(8)- A Ship class is divided into flights or subclasses. No two ships are the same and when a class is planned, it is often divided into flights. This is because each flight will incorporate new technological advancements that have occurred over the years.

Example: (Los Angeles) 688-class Attack Submarine

Three Variants

688 (SSN-688 to SSN-718)

VLS (SSN-719 to SSN-750)

688I (SSN-751 to SSN-773)

(9)- Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missile standard issue medium range missile in use by many countries.

(10)- Sidewinder standard short range missile in use by the USAF

(11)- Identification Friend or Foe. This is the identification system to determine if the approaching craft if friendly or not.

(12)- Helmet Mounted Display. This is the display that will replace the Heads Up Display in many Fighters in the Future. This allows to pilot to see information without blocking his or her view in the cockpit.

(13)- Victory Day a day celebrating the end of WWII in Russia.

(14)- Nickname used by Russian pilots for the AMRAAM.

(15)- Fictional designation for a missile. I used it to describe the destructive power of the missile.

(16)- Giga- 10 to the ninth power, one thousand billion. A gigaton is equivalent to 1,000,000 tons of TNT


	6. Chapter 5

**March 15 1700 Greenwich Mean Time TFNS **_**Heihachiro Togo **_**Flag Briefing Room **

"Have the figures come in yet Captain?" Collingsworth asked his Chief of Staff.

"Sir. I just finished them," replied Captain Elias Vaughn, Collingsworth's chief of staff.

"Lets hear it."

"We have twelve hundred two hundred and five killed in action including the loss of the _De Gaulle_. In addition, we have five hundred wounded ranging from minor wounds such as scrapes, bumps and cuts to major wounds such as compound fractures, internal bleeding and severe trauma."

"How many can get back to full duty within a week or so?"

"Almost all of them, from what the doctors tell me."

"How? I'm not a doctor, but that's medically impossible!"

"Sir. You're still thinking in pre-War terms and technology. The Asgard have graciously extended additional medical assistance to us and have greatly quickened the recovery rate of the wounded," Vaughn stated, reminding Collingsworth.

"That is exemplary. On a more morose note, what of the fatalities?"

"We've recovered as many bodies that we could in space and have also identified them. We are preparing to send them back to Earth by use of Dakara's Stargate, which the Free Jaffa Nation has more than graciously lent us use of their gate for this purpose."

"We will remember those that we lost," he sighed, not wanting to think about those who had died under his command. Turning back the task at hand, "What's our logistical status?"

"As of right now, we are reasonably well stocked at the moment. The missile tubes on every ship in the Task Force have been reloaded. We have enough missiles to last for another two maybe three battles most. We have more than enough railgun ammunition to go around," reported Commander Ling Tian, Collingsworth's logistics officer.

"What of the Armageddons?" The missiles had proved invaluable in last battle and Collingsworth wanted as many as he could possibly get his hands on.

"Your request for more of the missiles was relayed to the Joint Chiefs and has been approved."

"When are they going to arrive?" At the moment, he only had around 30 of the missiles left and wanted a steady supply a soon as possible.

"The supply ships, _Erie_,_ Victoria_, and _Titicaca _are in hyperspace transit at the moment and will arrive in a day and a half. In addition, the Supercarrier _Simon Bolivar _and the battleships _Montana _and _Yorkshire_ have been assigned to escort the convoy during its transit and will be attached to the Task Force along with the supply ships upon its arrival to augment the firepower of the Task Force."

"Outstanding," he replied. Then it hit him. "Commander, did you say _Battleships and Supercarrier_?"

"Yes sir I did," replied Ling nervously. His English wasn't as good as the rest of the staff and often had a tendency to mispronounce his words especially his Rs and Ls. However he more than made up for his linguistic difficulties with his logistics abilities, of which he had no equal.

"Shouldn't they still be in the shipyards or part of home fleet?" Collingsworth asked, _Simon Bolivar_ was supposed to be commissioned in two weeks, while _Montana_ and _Yorkshire _were still under construction with a month's worth of work left before they were complete and were to be assigned to Home Fleet, the Navy unit in charge of the defense of Sol upon completion.

"Sir a few weeks before the Task Force left Sol, the Admiralty decided to make the completion of the three _Montana_-class Battleships and the first of three _Simon Bolivar_-class Supercarriers under construction as its first priority and allocated all of its resources for this purpose. This allowed the completion of all the four vessels but put the commissioning of the last five _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers and the laying down of the _Kashmir_, the fourth vessel, of the _Montana_-class behind schedule. However with the activation of our yard in L2, we will easily recoup the lost time and more. After hearing the extent of the losses after the battle from our preliminary report, the Joint Chiefs figured that you needed more firepower to back you up," explained Ling.

"My apologies, thank you for clearing that up Commander. One last question, what is the situation about replacement fighters and pilots for the Task Force?"

"We have 50 fighters and pilots embarked in the supply convoy in addition to the 200 plus fighters on the _Bolivar_. The Joint Chiefs have decided to give us more replacement fighters than we need at the moment in anticipation for further losses during future engagements with the Ori."

"Thank you. Lets move on to the After Action Report shall we? Commander Chandra, you analysis of the engagement?"

"The Task Force did pretty well in its first engagement. However there are some things that need to be improved. It took our Battlecruisers nearly eight minutes on average to launch our fighters. I am not accusing anyone but if we had been able to launch our fighters a little faster, me might have gotten the second squadron off of the _De Gaulle_ before she was destroyed."

Everyone present winced at Chandra's blunt but honest appraisal. The loss of Admiral Bichet and the Flagship had hit them hard. "What is your evaluation of our fighter tactics?"

"As of right now, our F-302 Mongooses are our valuable resource at the moment. They can easily be replaced and they have proven to be our most effective weapon against the Ori. Without them, we wouldn't have been able to take down the last two enemy ships. The fighters proved admirably and beyond our expectations. During the battle we achieved a kill to loss ratio that was vastly in our favor due to the superior training and doctrines utilized by our pilots. However I am puzzled at the lack of sensible individual tactical choices and coordination by their own pilots."

"I agree with the Commander Chandra's analysis. They seem to have little to no tactical sense at all. Analysis of the battle shows that once the enemy's capital ships were destroyed, what little coordination they possessed," stated Commander Vasily Tamarov, the Task Force's head intelligence officer.

"Are you suggesting that there is some sort of mental link between the fighters and their respective capital ships? A hive mind of sort?" Collingsworth asked puzzled.

"Not exactly, sir. Perhaps the Prior in charge of the ship is also directly in command of the fighters," remarked Vaughn.

"That would fit the bill. The pilots reported that as they began to thin out the Ori ranks, the fighters suddenly got more and more skilled."

"Could it be that the increases of skill in the enemy fighters abilities result due to the fact that most of their rookies were killed in the first engagement, leaving only veteran aces on the field?" Collingsworth asked skeptically.

"Normally it would. However our pilots reported that as the fight wore on, the enemy fighters seemed to lack cohesion and coordination, the very same fighters that had been very disciplined before their ships were destroyed."

"So you're saying that the Ori might be totally dependent on their Priors?"

"It might be true sir. Given the fact that the Ori live in a primitive society where scientific and technical knowledge is heretical, it would be safe to say so. The sociologists in my intelligence department have suggested that since the Priors are a driving force in their everyday society, then they should play a big role in their military."

"How the bloody hell do they function effectively? If one of their Priors is destroyed, then they loose mass amounts of combat command and control capability."

"From analysis of their strategies, they often don't and underutilize their potential. They often use brute force and frontal attacks, both of which cause mass amounts of casualties for their side."

"Christ," Collingsworth breathed. The implications of this, if proved true could give Earth a decisive advantage against the enemy. According to the hypothesis made by his staff, if one could knock out their Priors, then the Ori would have its legs cut out from under them. He took short breath to calm himself. "So you are saying that the Priors serve as some kind of war coordinator?"

"Yes sir. That is exactly what I am saying."

"Have your technical people been able to examine the captured fighters that we recovered from the battle to prove this guess?"

"Yes. Sir. However we have encountered difficulties in determining how it exactly works."

"Explain."

"We've been able to recover three enemy fighters from the battle and their pilots, however the pilots have been proving very uncooperative for a variety of reasons. One, they don't know how they works at all and are unfamiliar about any scientific terms that we have asked them. Two, they barely know how to operate them. In comparison, a green recruit at flight school knows how to fly better than they do. And finally, they refuse to help us, since they would be consorting with 'infidels,' a mortal sin in Origin. All three have tried to commit suicide within the last twelve hours. We've put them in solitary confinement and have put them on suicide watch for any other attempts."

"On board the _Simon Bolivar_ is a team of interrogators from the Federal Intelligence Agency on board. They're former CIA, MI6, MSS and KGB. They'll have no problem getting the information out of them. However, they do need your authorization to begin interrogating once they arrive," commented Ling.

"Granted. Inform them to begin right away upon their arrival. However do tell them to show some restraint. I don't want to kill them before they reveal their secrets."

"Well Admiral, there is always sarcophaguses to bring them back into the land of the living them if they do choose be uncooperative," replied Ling with a ghastly smile.

Collingsworth involuntarily flinched at Ling's bloodthirstiness. "Thank you Commander. Keep me posted on the prisoners."

"I will do so, sir."

"Gentlemen. This meeting is now adjourned. I suggest that you prepare your dress uniforms. We are to meet Prime Teal'c and the rest of the Task Force on his Flag Ship at 0800 tomorrow. I expect you to be at the fighter bay one by 0730. Dismissed."

**Admiral's Office 1830 GMT**

"Sir. Commanders Fujimaki and Drossier reporting as ordered Sir!" the two men said as one as they stood at rigid attention before the Admiral's desk.

Collingsworth looked up from the never-ending pile of paperwork, the bane of every officer that he was filling out and looked at the two men. "At ease. Take a seat," he ordered gesturing at the two chairs in front of him.

Collingsworth surveyed the two men sitting in front of him. He had read the post-battle reports submitted by the two and had now decided to deal discuss the their actions taken during the battle.

"Gentlemen. I am here to discuss something very important to the three of us and the rest of this Task Force," he told the two.

He paused, letting the words sink into their minds. "The conduct displayed by you, Commander Fujimaki and you, Lieutenant Commander Drossier was both above and beyond the call of duty. Your actions helped turn what was to be a first-class disaster into a stunning victory. The only course of action that I can take as acting Task Force Commander is to promote the two of you."

"Commander Fujimaki, as of now, you are now the permanent Commanding Officer of the TFNS _Heihachiro Togo_ and are awarded the rank and benefits of your new command. Congratulations Captain and I do believe that you now are out of uniform." Collingsworth pulled out a set of two silver eagles and a pair of shoulder boards with four stripes on them from his desk and gave them to the Captain. "I believe that this should fix the problem."

"Thank you Admiral," Fujimaki said simply but graciously. Although he was calm on the exterior, Collingsworth knew that inside, he was bursting with joy.

"Lieutenant Commander Drossier, you also are to be promoted to Commander. As the Executive Officer of this starship, I sincerely hope that you will show the exact skill and ability that you showed as the Chief Weapons Officer. Well done." Collingsworth presented him two silver oak leaves and shoulder boards that displayed three broad stripes as opposed to the two broad and one narrow that he wore as a Lieutenant Commander.

"It is an honor to serve sir," Drossier replied, ecstatic at being elevated to XO.

He sighed once again, clearly showing the stress and exhaustion that he was feeling. "Gentlemen, I am sorry to cut this visit short, but paperwork calls," he said pointing to the infinite and growing amount of paperwork that lay on his desk and wishing that his two guests could stay longer.

The two officers grimaced knowingly. If there was one thing that God or whoever was out there made to torment humanity it was paperwork.

The new commanding officer of the _Togo_ and his executive officer exited the office, leaving the Admiral alone with his paperwork.

**FJNS (Free Jaffa Nation Starship) **_**Gerak**_

Collingsworth and his staff sat in the shuttle as they approached to the landing zone in the _Gerak_'s fighter bay. As per his orders, he and those accompanying him wore their dress uniforms issued by the Terran Navy, many of whom for the first time. The Jaffa were big on ceremony and Collingsworth knew that it would not proper to not reciprocate in kind.

The officer's dress uniform utilized by the Terran Navy was similar to the wet-Navy uniform used by the planetary Navies of earth's different nations. It consisted of pair of slacks, a tie, and a coat all of which were the deepest midnight sable and a white button up shirt.

The inner layer of clothing consisted of the buttoned up dress shirt with the tie, tucked into the slacks which were right above the immaculately polished dress shoes worn on the officer's feet. A double-breasted coat displaying insignia of rank, ribbons and medals was worn over the shirt and tie. To top it off, the uniform contained a black-billed white combination cover, displaying a starburst in the center. However unlike the uniforms used by the pre-war wet-Navies that were black and used gold stripes on the sleeves to display rank, the Terran Navy still used black as the base color but utilized silver to distinguish one's rank on the sleeve.

Absentmindedly, he picked at the sleeves of his immaculate uniform trying to flick off imaginary lint from the cuffs. Even as boy, he possessed a sense of personal vanity that uncommon to even most adults, often ironing his school uniforms himself when he could not afford to send them to the cleaners.

He grinned. His family had always kidded him about egotism. His brother had called him a peacock, while the rest of his family would address him mockingly as 'your highness' and perform satirical royal acts as a result.

His mood soured as he remembered that part of his family was no longer with him. _Rodger, they are gone. And there is nothing that you can do about it. They would not want you to mourn, remember them, yes. But not mourn. _He reminded himself.

The shuttle landed on the docking bay and quickly opened its hatch to let the officers out. "We're here sir," the shuttle's pilot, one of the Task Force's fighter jocks who had been randomly picked for this duty announced over the intercom.

"Thank you Lieutenant. I had an enjoyable flight," he told the pilot, knowing that it the pilot would appreciate it.

"My pleasure sir. Anytime."

Before stepping out of the shuttle, Collingsworth composed himself, turning his frown into an expressionless mask. The Jaffa as a whole, were not big on emotion and anyone who showed such were looked upon as weak.

As he and his staff stepped out of the shuttle fifty Jaffa warriors, twenty-five on each side, fully armored in immaculate battle armor and armed with staff weapons stood at attention as one.

At the foot of the shuttle's ramp, a Jaffa warrior, one of higher rank, distinguishable by the presence of more extravagant armor than those on the honor guard waited for him and his staff. He thought about saluting the Jaffa and asking him permission to come aboard similar to a side party (1) used by the Terran Navy, but decided against it, not wanting to offend the Jaffa, since odds were that they did not now the proper protocol for the Terran ceremony.

"Welcome aboard Admiral Collingsworth, I am Bra'mac of the Free Jaffa. Prime Teal'c is waiting for you. Come," he gesturing them to follow him.

_**Gerak **_**Prime's Briefing Room**

"Admiral Collingsworth, the Free Jaffa Nation is honored to receive the assistance of the Tau'ri in our time of need."

"The Terran Federal Republic is privileged to have faithful allies such as the Jaffa, Tok'ra and the Asgard and it is our pleasure to assist you in our struggle against the tyrannical Ori," he said as diplomatically as he could, trying to match the flowery language used by the Jaffa.

"Thank you Admiral."

"As a token of our appreciation, our government asks that you accept this," he said as he reached into his coat and pulled out two boxed sets containing three DVDs each. "The complete collection of the Star Wars series autographed by George Lucas, himself with the addition of the signatures from all the main actors of the series." He handed them to Teal'c.

"Thank you. Tell your government that I shall treasure these always," Teal'c said as he grasped the DVD sets as if they were a priceless treasure with no equal.

"In addition, on a more informal note, General O'Neill sends you this." He gestured to the Marine squad accompanying them and which were carrying a large crate, like the Admiral and his staff they were also in full dress uniform. The Marine squad gently put the crate down and began to open it carefully in order not to make a mess.

Once the Marines were done opening the crate, Collingsworth reached inside the crate and grabbed one of the bottles that was stored in the container and gave it to Teal'c. "A case of Bailey's Irish Cream Whiskey for you sir."

"Thank you Admiral, I have been without whiskey for too long. Send General O'Neill my thanks for his gracious gift."

Although it was widely known at the now-defunct SGC that its resident Jaffa was a fan, no that would be an understatement, devotee would be much more accurate, of the Star Wars saga, it was a little known fact that he was a connoisseur on fine whiskey.

None other than General Jack O'Neill, who, in the early years of the SGC as a Colonel, had tried to lighten up the stoic Jaffa, introduced him to the fine beverage. After a long and strenuous mission that foiled one of Apophis' many schemes to rid the galaxy of the pesky Tau'ri, O'Neill challenged Teal'c to a drinking contest. Which, Teal'c without hesitation accepted.

O'Neill, being of Irish descent, was confident that he could drink the Jaffa under the table. (2) However that was not to be. With his Goa'uld symbiote, was able to drink twice as much as O'Neill without even feeling tipsy, who after the twentieth shot had passed out on the floor dead drunk, a feat never before accomplished.

While, this event had failed to get Teal'c to act more casual, it did produce two lasting results. One was the biggest hangover that O'Neill had ever endured. The day after the contest, out of pure sadism both then-General Hammond and then-Captain Carter had decided to speak very loudly during the briefing much to the displeasure of the hung-over Colonel.

The second effect however, was something that no one had anticipated. After participating in the contest, he had developed an affection of Terran alcohol, especially whiskey. Before having only experienced local bootleg alcohol of lesser quality, Teal'c quickly fell in love with the Terran variety and quickly became well versed about it.

"I will do so. Allow me to present Captain Vaughn, my chief of staff, Commander Tamarov, my chief intelligence officer, Commander Chandra, my operations officer and Commander Ling, my chief supply officer."

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Now that the pleasantries are over, let us sit down," Teal'c said gesturing them to their seats where Dagr, the head of the Asgard battle group and Anise, the commander of the Tok'ra force were already sitting.

Turning to the Marine squad he ordered, "You're dismissed. Head back to the shuttle remain there until return."

Silently, but in a formal manner, the Marines marched out of the room and back to their shuttle to wait for their superior officers to return.

Once the Marines left the room, Collingsworth and his staff took their seats along with Teal'c.

"Admiral Collingsworth, my complements to the pilots of the small attack craft. I never suspected that such diminutive ships could be that effective in battle," stated Dagr, who was clearly surprised at the effectiveness of the Terran's fighters.

"Thank you. I will convey them as soon as I can."

"With the arrival of your Task Force, the Fleet's strength will increased by almost a third," stated Anise/Freya.

"Actually, it is going to be augmented by a factor of 50 percent. The second part of the Task Force is on its way and will arrive within a week."

"And what will it contain?" asked Dagr, curious about the nature of the Terran's reinforcements.

"We have the Supercarrier _Simon Bolivar_ and two battleships, _Montana _and _Yorkshire_ along with three replenishment ships."

"That's a sizeable chunk of your fleet Admiral. I'm not complaining but aren't your superiors worried that it'll leave them vulnerable to attack?" asked Freya, amazed.

"If I may, the departure of Task Force 12 from Sol will not hamper Earth's defensive capabilities. At the moment, we have more than ten _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers along with one _Montana_-class battleship, guarding Sol at the moment. The Joint Chiefs and the President agree that we are to take the fight to the Ori or else they will fight us on our own space," responded Ling, in his most businesslike manner.

"For the last year, Earth, with the exception of special operations units operating across the galaxy has not been taking an active role against the Ori and instead has been devoting its resources to develop a capable military to carry out an interstellar war. Because of this, intelligence about the enemy has been slim and Earth does not know the extent of the Ori occupation of the Milky Way. We'd like to know current tactical situation as of know."

"The Ori for the last year have been consolidating their holding in this galaxy," stated Dagr. He activated the projector that was embedded in the table, showing the Supergate with noting but vacuum around it. "This was the Supergate one year ago." He changed the picture, to one blurrier showing the Supergate surrounded by orbital fortresses, Battlecruisers and many smaller ships. "This was taken by a cloaked _Al'kesh_ transport ship three months ago. Unfortunately this was all it could get off before being detected and destroyed by the Ori."

"Are there other significant Ori bases across this galaxy?"

"Yes an no. The area near the Supergate is the Ori's central and most developed base. Every star system ten of your light-years away are under their control. However the Ori do have minor bases across the galaxy, which they are used to produce ships for use in the local area of operations near the base."

"Where's the Ori base in this area of the galaxy?" Collingsworth asked curious.

"Over here," said Dagr pointing to a location close to Dakara.

"What if we attacked this base?" asked Collingsworth.

"It would be no consequence. The Ori would still send ships against Dakara. The Ori base in this sector has devoted all of its resources to this task. As soon as the ships are complete, they send them to attack Dakara immediately. The period between attacks varies from eight to twelve days."

"However wouldn't it cause a major strain on their resources?"

"Yes. But in the end, the Ori will send ships against us."

"If we knock out this base, the Ori will loose one of its shipyards and will strain the rate of production. That will force them to divert precious resources that would be used to subjugate further worlds. It won't win us the war, but it'll buy the galaxy more time."

"A good plan, Admiral. There is one fault in your plan; the Ori base is surrounded by sensors that will detect any capital ship that appears within 500,000 kilometers from the base and will respond accordingly."

"What about small craft?"

"Previous engagements against the Ori have concluded that the presence of death gliders and similar craft are nuisance at the most and a waste of resources at the very least. The only reason why the Ori keep fighters in its arsenal is to provide the enemy with more targets, causing them to focus on the fighters while the Battlecruisers take out the enemy ships. I doubt that they have calibrated their sensors to detect the craft that small."

"Pear Harbor. We can Pearl Harbor their asses," mused Vaughn.

"Pardon me?" asked Teal'c.

"Sixty of our years ago, a force of over 400 fighters conducted a surprise attack on an immense Naval fleet stationed in port. This resulted in the crippling of an entire fleet for over a year," explained Ling.

"However you do not have 400 fighters at your disposal. By my calculations, you only have barely under a hundred."

"Although I do have around 85 or so in my arsenal right now. The second part of my Task Force contains replacements for those that I lost, bringing my fighter strength up to its full possible strength of twelve full squadrons. In addition, the presence of the _Simon Bolivar_, alone gives us 15 squadrons worth of fighters, brining the total of fighters in my Task Force to over 300. Although this is still a little over half the number that was used at Pearl Harbor, each fighter in the Task Force will be armed with either nuclear weapons or Armageddon antimatter cruise missiles."

"The Ori's shields are near invincible and are extremely hard to overload. How can you be sure to overload them during your attack."

"If the attack, works out as planned we won't need to. We will have total surprise against the enemy and their shields will not be activated. The nuclear bombs will be more than enough to destroy their hulls and if they do have them activated, then we'll always have the Armageddons to fire at them. However most of the ships at the base will probably unshielded anyways due to their incomplete status so odds are we won't need to over load their shields since they don't have them," explained Chandra.

"It sounds like a daring plan Admiral. I believe that we should execute it," stated Teal'c, in favor of attacking the Ori instead of reacting to their attacks.

"I agree. The possible consequences of success out weigh the price of failure," said Anise.

"I concur. It is logical that we do this in order divert the resources from the Ori war machine and to stop, albeit temporarily the attacks on Dakara."

"When do you think you can launch this attack?"

"At the very least three days, at the most a week. I have to wait for the second part of my Task Force to arrive. In addition, my staff and I need to plan the operation."

"I suggest that the meeting is concluded as of now. We should reconvene at a later time for Admiral Collingsworth to present his full plan to us," stated Dagr.

"My staff and I will have a full formulated battle plan within two days. Now if you will excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I have a lot work to do." Collingsworth and his staff then proceeded to exit their seats, walked out the door and headed to the shuttle that would take them back to their ship.

**Author's Notes**

**(1)- Side party: a ceremony used by Naval personnel of all ranks when they are boarding a ship that they are not a part of.**

**(2)- The Irish are known to be very good at two things, fighting and drinking. They have been known to have a very large alcohol tolerance in comparison to everyone else. Since O'Neill is Irish, I would suspect that he would have the same kind of tolerance. There is an old Irish saying that goes, "God made whiskey, so the Irish wouldn't rule the world."**

**If you are wondering why I don't refer to the humans on Earth as the **_**Tau'ri**_**, it is because only the Jaffa and Goa'uld refer to them as that. If the humans from Earth called themselves the **_**Tau'ri **_**would be equivalent to Americans calling themselves Yankees, which to those who don't live in the US is a very big no-no. If you call someone from anywhere in the US besides New England and especially the south a Yankee, may God help your soul. I chose Terran since it is a more generic term and it sounds a lot better than Earthling or Earther.**


	7. Chapter 6

* * *

**Chulak March 19 GMT 1900**

"What are our losses this time?" asked Sanders wearily, tired from yet another skirmish with the Ori.

"Not so good sir. We have thirteen casualties from the last attack. We also lost another Bradley to enemy fire," reported Masters tiredly, his face smeared with a mixture of dirt and sweat.

For the last week and a half, the men of Bravo Company had endured relentless, non-stop attack after attack by the Ori. Bravo Company had almost been forced to retreat many of an occasion and only by the grace of whoever the hell was out there were they able to hold the line.

The only thing keeping the enemy from overwhelming their positions was the constant bombardment of the enemy by the artillery and the presence of Special Operations Forces units deployed behind enemy lines that were disrupting the Ori's efforts as much as possible.

However but the numbers that the enemy was swarming his position with, the Ori seemed to have so many troops that this seemed largely ineffective. Sanders shuddered, thinking about the number many enemy troops he would have to face if the artillery or Special Forces were simply not there.

Sanders had now lost twenty men from his company and four Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles during the fighting and the Company was bound to loose many more in the coming days.

"Shit. Any word on replacements for both the Bradleys or for the men we lost?"

"Yes. Sir. I've got word on the replacements vehicles. You're not going to like this sir. They're sending us one Bradley and a Stryker to replace out losses."

"What? Don't they know the situation here? We need every fucking vehicle we got! Dammit!" roared Sanders, incensed at the lack of support. He was only going to get half of the vehicles that he requested and only one of the vehicles was what he needed.

The Stryker was a good vehicle and he would be of the first to defend its utility against its critics. It was more modern than the twenty-year old Bradley, being much more roomier and lighter than the older vehicle. However it was only armed with a .50 cal machine gun and lacked the 25mm cannon that the Bradley possessed, which had proved valuable beyond words in stopping enemy infantry charges.

The Stryker was designed to be more of a rapidly deployable Armored Personnel Carrier, transporting regular infantry soldiers to conflict areas quickly while the Bradley was a quasi-tank that was able to carry heavily armed mechanized infantry and kill heavily armed enemy troops and vehicles easily.

He sighed, "What about replacement troops? Are we going to get a replacement for Watkins?"

"We're getting twelve replacements for our losses and are getting a new Platoon Commander for First platoon. A First Lieutenant Shelia Roberts sir."

"What do we know about her?" asked Sanders curious about his new subordinate.

"According to copy of her personnel file that they sent us, she's a former MP that transferred into Infantry as soon as they opened up the combat arms. She's a West Pointer, class of 98'."

"Please tell she isn't a ring knocker," moaned Sanders. (1) He had served under West Point grads before and while some were great officers and brilliant leaders, others were spectacular stuck up and incompetent assholes that rubbed in their status as academy graduates to those who didn't get the opportunity to attend the Academy like Sanders.

"I don't know if she is or not. As far as I know, they don't write that sort of thing in one's personnel file."

"They sure don't." Sanders grinned, imagining opening someone's personnel file that contained such language. He sobered up, "What do her former superiors say?"

"She served in Iraq, the Sunni Triangle to be specific. Her former commanding officer reported that she was a good officer, however she tends to think inside the box too much and puts too much command responsibility on herself as opposed to delegating authority to her subordinates."

"Crap." _Another know-it-all._ Changing the subject, he asked, "When are the reinforcements going to arrive? And when is the supply convoy going to arrive. We're almost out of fucking ammo."

"Replacements are due to arrive tomorrow morning. The ammunition convoy should be arriving…" The sudden emergence of the boisterous sounds of motors running and pistons firing told Sanders and his Company that the convoy had arrived. "… About now," stated Masters.

"All right boys, the supply convoy's here. Lets get the ammo off of the trucks. Lets move people!" he told his company as he and Masters ran to the nearest truck.

A soldier wearing the single bar of a Lieutenant exited the cab of the truck and hopped down to the ground. "Which one of you is Sanders?" he asked.

"Right here," Sanders told him, raising his hand so the Lieutenant could tell whom exactly he was.

"Lieutenant Miller sir," the officer replied saluting.

"At ease. Where do I sign for these?" he asked eager to get his supplies.

"Right here sir," Miller told him, bringing out the requisitions form.

Sanders took and began to read it, making sure that he received the right supplies. Midway through reading the form, to the surprise to everyone present, he exclaimed loudly, "What the fuck this shit?"

"Sir?"

"Don't bullshit me Lieutenant. Where are the fucking the supplies that I asked for?" he said dangerously.

All around him the men tensed. Their Company Commander was a great officer, if Sanders ordered a bayonet charge against the Ori homeworld, wherever it may be, every member of his company would be right behind him charging alongside. However Sanders did have temper and when it appeared, God help those unfortunate enough to be caught under his wrath. Many a careless or lazy soldier in the Company had received a chew-out session from the Captain that they would not forget.

"I don't know what you mean sir."

"This convoy only contains half of the supplies that I requested. Where the fuck is the other half?"

"Sir. This is all I have. Can you please sign the form sir? I have to get back to base for supplies and the sooner you sign it, the faster I get back."

"Lieutenant I'm not signing a damn thing unless you give me what I need."

The Lieutenant sighed. "Listen sir, how about we make a deal? I've got four M312.50 cal machine guns and sixteen belts of ammunition that no one's spoken for."

The M-312 .50 cal light heavy machine guns were potent weapons. Although at first, one would believe that the descriptions of these weapons are somewhat of an oxymoron. It was actually the most accurate term used to describe them. Developed for the former US military, the M312 was designed to pack the firepower and reliability of the venerable M2 with the capability being carried easily along with ample ammunition by only two soldiers.

"Fine Lieutenant. Where the hell do I sign?" he asked, knowing that this was going to be the best deal that he was going to get. Besides, they would be very useful in stopping the enemy.

The Lieutenant pointed to the bottom the form. "Right here sir," he said as he watched the Captain sign the form.

"Oh Lieutenant can you do me one last favor?" he asked.

"Go ahead." _It couldn't be that bad_, the Lieutenant thought.

"Tell those….

* * *

**Geneva, Formerly Switzerland Presidential Office March 20th 0800 GMT**

"… mother fucking sons of bitches back on Earth to get their goddamn shit together. We can stop these Ori assholes dead cold if we could have some fucking ammo available," stated O'Neill emotionlessly, trying not to grin.

"Who said that?" asked Hayes curious to see who had that kind of nerve.

"A Captain Michael Dean Sanders, Company Commander of Bravo Company, Second Battalion, Ninth Infantry Regiment, First Heavy Brigade Combat Team, Second Infantry Division, I Corps, 8th Army."

"Well all that I can say is that this Captain Sanders has some serious guts," commented Hammond.

"He probably didn't know that his comments would get this high up," mused O'Neill.

"Let's get back to the situation at hand. Let me put this bluntly, Jack, George, what the hell is going on in Chulak?"

"Sir its plain and simple. We're running out of ammo."

"This is inexcusable! We're spending half of our GDP on the military and our forces are running out of supplies? After almost half a century of spending massive amounts of money, and resources, this is what the military can come up with?" asked Abarano incredulous.

"Allow me to explain Minister. Although we are devoting 50 of our resources to the war it is divided into several parts. Half of the budget is devoted to Research and Development projects aimed at modernizing our Armed Forces to that of galactic standards. Three eights is used to manufacture the ships, tanks and guns that we need in the field. One sixteenth is used to support our forces commencing peacekeeping operations across the globe. The last and smallest portion has been devoted to manufacture munitions such as bullets, artillery shells, rocket and the like," explained Egon Berlitz, the Minister of War Production.

"How bad is it?" Hayes was concerned. If the press or the Legislature found out, there would be hell to pay.

"Pretty bad sir. Right now we're almost down to raiding the ammunition stores of the local police departments and gun stores."

"Don't we have entire factories devoted to creating more bullets for our young men and women to use?"

"Yes we do. However the demand for ammunition, far outstrips the supply for it at the moment."

"Can you clarify that?"

"Right now, we have multiple fronts in this war. In addition to our presence on Chulak, we're fighting the enemy in the Dakara system, and we have Special Operations units operating across the galaxy on hundreds of different planets. Not to mention our forces stationed in Atlantis in the Pegasus galaxy. It does not help the situation at all that we have currently expended more munitions than entire planet did during the Second World War."

"How are we going to solve this problem?"

"In the next week or so, the retooling of five more factories that were formerly used to create civilian consumer products to creating ammunition for our troops will be complete. In addition, we're going to be building a munitions factory in the Alpha site to solely meet the ammunition demands of our Spec Ops units and are going to build factories on Langara and Pangara to meet and exceed the demand."

"Good. Get those factories completed as soon as possible," Hayes ordered. "Speaking about production what the status on the various research and development projects undertaken by the military."

"Our next generation integrated land combat systems developed jointly for the needs of both Army and the Marine Corps has finished development and is in production as of now. The First Infantry Division is the first unit to outfitted with the new equipment and will be combat certified in less than week," reported Lee.

"Our engineers are still laboring hard to complete Luna Base. We project that its completion will occur sometime in June. The two of the five orbital platforms to be placed in low Earth orbit are nearly complete with forty-five more ordered for further construction. The building of the first of ten defense fortresses is now underway and will greatly enhance our defensive capabilities," said Timoshenko.

"One question General, what's the difference between a orbital weapons _platform_ and an orbital weapons _fortress_?" asked Hayes puzzled, wondering what the difference was.

"The difference between a platform and a fortress is equivalent to a comparison between a small cutter and a dreadnought. A platform has a complement of 150 to 250 personnel and is only eighty meters tall and twenty meters wide. A Type I fortress on the other hand has 3000 personnel manning it and is 100 meters wide, 500 meters tall and has more firepower than two battleships combined."

"Ah. I see. Where are you going to be putting it?"

"We have decided to place it in the Fifth Lagrange Point making our coverage of Earth nearly complete."

"What do mean nearly complete? I thought that you had a sensor net that covered the entire solar system."

"Pardon my language Mr. President. Yes we do have complete sensor coverage of the solar system. However we do not have to capability to immediately engage any ship that came out of hyperspace until it reached Earth Orbit."

"But isn't the Navy able to intercept enemy targets?" Hayes asked, wondering why in the hell, the expensive ships that the Navy wanted were good for.

"The Navy is currently patrolling the Space around the Solar system and they are doing a very good job of it sir. However they only have less than twenty ships and the Solar System is a big place with more area than a trillion square kilometers to cover. Even if we had the ships that we sent to Dakara and the lost _Prometheus_ and _Korolev_ with the addition of the _Daedalus_ from Atlantis in the Pegasus Galaxy, we still couldn't have ability to engage the enemy right away. There is no exact place that a ship is going to emerge from hyperspace and we have no way of knowing where and when they will show up, ranging from the Oort Clouds (2) on the edge of the Solar System beyond Pluto to directly into Earth's orbit. Granted, if an enemy ship did come out of hyperspace, the Navy would be able to engage the enemy but it would take several minutes to do so since the fleet would have to execute a micro jump into hyperspace to reach the enemy's position quickly," explained Carter, in defense of the Navy's efforts.

"Thank you Generals Timoshenko and Carter for clearing that up with me. Alan, what's going on with the Navy?"

"We are about to commission the last five _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers within the next two weeks. Supercarriers _Elizabeth Tudor _and _Bernardo O'Higgins_ are under construction as we speak and we are going to be lay down _George Washington_ in five days. The battleship _Kashmir _is also being built with_ California_, _Prussia_, _Normandy, Sudetenland,_ and _Amazonas_ planned and are to be built once the five _Daedalus_-class units are commissioned, thus freeing up the dry docks to build them. We have ten _Buenos Aires_-class Destroyers in the yards as of now. Plans for the _Johannesburg_-class Anti-Spacefighter Frigate and the _Marathon_-class cruiser are going to be finalized in three months, one month ahead of schedule and production of the first fifteen frigates and six cruisers will begin shortly after at New Portsmouth. The _Lionel Pendergast_-class Battlecruisers are still under development and the final design plans won't be ready until August at the very earliest," the Chief of Naval Operations told the President.

"What about the fighters?" Hayes asked, according to the reports from Dakara, the fighters were the most effective resource against those alien bastards.

"The F-302A is now in mass production. We were able to put a squadron's worth of the A models in the supply convoy to Task Force 12 before it left. In a couple of months, the F-302A should completely replace the older model in our inventory."

"What about this new fighter under development that I've been hearing about?"

"The Kestrel?"

"Yes. That one."

"The S F/A-1 Kestrel is still under development at the moment. Our engineers at Sukhoi informs us that they won't have a working prototype until November at the very least."

"Crap. Is there any way that we can get that prototype faster?" Hayes had only served eight years in the military and had only risen up to the rank of Captain but he knew that the sooner that fighter got into production the more of an edge they'd get against the enemy.

"As of right now, our economy is nearly at its full potential. We are at the point where if we devote more resources to one project, we will delay the outcome of another. Mr. President, we just don't have the infrastructure at the moment to do any more."

"What about the Asgard technology, that we received? Surely the technology helped our economy somewhat."

"While the Asgard technology helped our technological knowledge and allowed us to manufacture advanced weapons in our factories, the advanced technology given to us by our allies base barely affected our infrastructure. What we have at the moment is a pre-war infrastructure with some minor technical improvements slapped on to it," stated Berlitz.

"Can you explain this in layman's terms?" Hayes was a politician by trade, not an engineer or a specialist.

"Mr. President. Let us say that you have a city, it's modern and fully functional with streets, mass transit and sewers and the like. Are you understanding me right now?"

"Yes."

"Lets just say that twenty years pass by and now the city is somewhat old, crowded and is not as efficient as it used to be. The city leaders decide to make some improvements such as redoing the sewer system, repaving the roads, adding a subway or trolley system, etc, etc. This is going to cost some serious resources and money right?"

"Of course." _And a lot of political wrangling, contracts _and _a whole bunch of hoopla across the board_, he thought ever the politician.

"To associate this with the current situation at hand, now image this at a global scale."

"Ah," he said, finally understanding what was happening. "When do you that we're going to have a modern infrastructure given current production rates?"

"At this rate we are going to have an Asgard-like infrastructure in the next ten to twenty years at the very earliest."

"That long?"

"Yes Mr. President. We have to tear down entire cities, rail lines, power grids and the like and then proceed to completely build new ones from scratch. It takes a long time. However it ensures that when we win the war, we'll have millions of jobs available for everyone."

"Well I will definitely not be around to see that. Once this damn war ends, I'm retiring and am going to be playing golf for the rest of my life and might do a book deal and write my autobiography. Elena what's the situation on our allies?"

"Joint negotiations between the Foreign and the Defense Ministries and members of the Legislature's Armed Services Committee with the Langarans and Pangarans about another technology transfer have been concluded."

"What are the Terms?"

"They want F-302s, eighty of them each to be precise. They also want six cruisers, three to each planet for a local defense fleet. The fact that the Ori have arrived in force in this galaxy is making them very nervous at the moment. They are very scared and want as much advanced technology as they can get their hands on."

"Excuse me? You want me to give up the use of six dry-docks? That makes up of exactly ten percent of our shipbuilding capacity!" Hastings asked the foreign minister indignantly. The Navy needed those yards for its fleet and wasn't going to give them up, although temporarily without a fight.

"Perhaps we can instead send two Task Forces of three _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers each to both Langara and Pangara. Although they are classified as Battlecruisers they're about the same size or smaller than our next generation cruisers and could defend our allies until their cruisers are complete," mused Carter.

"You want us to commit six of our ships? That's a little less than _one-third_ of home fleet!" Hastings objected.

"Yeah. I'm not so sure that General Landry would like that. He's been screaming bloody murder for more ships ever since we sent Task Force Twelve to Dakara," O'Neill observed.

Before everyone could begin arguing about whether or not to deploy more ships, the alarm klaxons began shrieking. A Space Force officer in her Class A uniform, a Major judging by her insignia ran in to the room. "Deep space sensors have picked up a very large object coming out of hyperspace. ETA is five minutes. Home Fleet is veering to intercept and fighters are scrambling as of now."

"Mr. President, we need to get you and the rest of the Cabinet to your bunker now," the Secret Service Agent in charge of the Presidential detail told Hayes.

Before Hayes could move let alone respond, a flash of bright white light appeared in his office, blinding all inside the room. When the light slowly faded away, it revealed Thor in all of his glory sitting in his chair. "Greetings President Hayes, General O'Neill, Major General Carter. We have much do discuss," he said nonchalantly, despite the fact that every uniformed military Officer and Secret Service agent was pointing his or her weapon at him, safeties disengaged.

"Jesus Thor," O'Neil breathed, lowering his pistol and reengaging the safety. "Next time let us know when you're coming. You almost gave every uniformed serviceman and woman in this Solar system a damn heart attack." He turned to the President. "Mr. President. Tell your detail to stand down sir. He's a friendly."

"Gentlemen stand down," he told his detail as he sat back down in his chair clutching his chest and reaching for a glass of water, he was definitely getting way too old for this shit. "Supreme Commander Thor. I do not believe that I and the majority of my cabinet have had the honor to meet you. On behalf of the Terran Federal Republic, what can I do for you?" he said in his most hospitable voice, well honed after many years of politics in the Beltway. (3)

"My apologies for the sudden arrival. I am here to convey an offer given to you by the Asgard High Council."

"Lets hear it."

"It has come to our attention that at the moment, your fleet is still somewhat small and is spread rather thin."

"Yes. In a matter of fact before your arrival, we were just talking about the issue."

"How would you like to receive thirty _Beliskner_-class warships transferred permanently to your forces to augment its strength?"

"What? Thor buddy are you out of your mind? If you guys want to give the ships to us, it's perfectly fine with us; we'll take them off your hands in a second. I can see that Alan over here is nearly wetting his pants about doubling his Navy," he pointed to the CNO who was having a wet dream in his mind that only a Naval officer could have. "But don't you guys need those ships for the war against the Ori?"

"Not anymore O'Neill. The _Beliskner_-class is no longer useful to our needs. The _O'Neill_-class Battleships along with the _Daniel Jackson_-class science vessels have since replaced the _Beliskner_-class. Given the fact the _O'Neills_ and _Jacksons_ have completely supplanted the _Beliskner_-class, we neither have the resources nor the personnel to operate them. We decided that since Earth is in the exact opposite situation, with more than enough personnel to go around but without the ships to command, it would be beneficial for both of our governments to facilitate this exchange."

"What's the catch?" Hayes knew that despite the goodwill showed to Earth by the Asgard, an offer of this magnitude always came with strings attached.

"If the Terran Federal Republic accepts this offer, we will expect that Earth will become a permanent force and presence in the galactic affairs of the Milky Way galaxy?"

"Commander Thor, are you saying that you are abandoning us and are giving us ships to assuage your guilty consciences?" asked Abarano.

"It is _Supreme_ Commander Thor to you Health Minster. A word of advice if I may, one must always address someone with his or her full title unless directed otherwise. I do not know how one conducts one's self in your native region of Tuscany, but in many cultures around the Galaxy, formality is a must. No, the Asgard will not as you say 'abandon' its human allies. After this war and as long as we exist a species, we will still look after the interests of the Milky Way just as we have done for thousands of years. Instead, we expect that humanity take its rightful mantle as the Fifth Race."

"The Fifth Race?" the Foreign Minister asked.

"Many thousands of years ago, when humans were still learning how to harness the power fire, an Alliance between the four greatest races to ever exist from the galaxy, the Alterans, also known more commonly as the Ancients, the Nox, the Furlings and the Asgard was formed to provide stability and security across the Milky Way. However as time passed the Alliance began to fall apart with each race going its own separate ways; the Ancients moving to the Pegasus Galaxy for a time and eventually leaving this plane of existence, choosing instead to ascend to higher state of existence; the Nox, becoming more and more insular to the point where they have little or no interest in galactic affairs; the Furlings, having the most tragic fate of them all, exterminated to the last by the Goa'uld as they rose to power. As a result, only the Asgard remained to provide a counterweight against the forces of tyranny and chaos. When then-Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson led a military team to the planet Abydos and killed the System Lord Ra, humanity achieved the capability and potential on its own to become the Fifth Great Race. Now we ask that humanity accept the responsibilities that come with becoming a galactic power."

"Are you saying that we're going to be the galactic peacekeeping force?" Hayes asked, police actions and peacekeeping duties were never very popular on this planet and such actions taken across the galaxy would be even less so.

"Yes. This situation of the galaxy is equivalent to your Wild West. The Ori are just the major threat at the moment."

"Just the major threat?" asked General Lee.

"Yes. The Ori are just the major threat at the moment. In this galaxy, there is the Lucian Alliance, left over System Lords and the everlasting presence of what O'Neill calls 'Hitler-wannabees' whatever that may mean, who wish to take over the galaxy. We ask that you assist us in our efforts to keep the galaxy stable and for the most part peaceful."

"And what if we refuse?"

"This will not damage the relations between our two species. However the ships allocated for transfer will be scrapped."

"Where are they now?"

"The ships are currently guarded by twelve _O'Neill_-class and _Daniel Jackson_-class vessels in the neighboring solar system of what you know as Alpha Centauri."

"As President, I can make deals with other powers. However any agreements made with any foreign power, allied or not have to be approved by the Legislature."

"I understand President Hayes. I shall return in four days to receive your answer," Thor said and beamed out.

"Jack, how the bloody hell did you get a ship class let alone a single ship named after you?" asked Hastings, envious of the General.

"Alan, I've got lots of friends in very high places."

"Is there anything else would you like to tell us General O'Neill?" asked Geng.

"Well in addition to having a ship class named after me, I've also done some other stuff. Like rapidly aging over a couple of days, dying and getting resurrected, getting the entire knowledge base of the most advanced race in the universe getting implanted in my mind, finding out that I have the ability to control such technology by a special gene in my genome, killed around at least five foreign heads of state (4) and have traveled back the year 1969 and borrowed $500 from my commanding officer when he was still a Lieutenant."

"Its been nearly forty years and you still haven't given me my money back O'Neill. I want it back with interest," groused Hammond, grumpily. When he gave O'Neill his money many years ago, he gave up of a sizeable amount of his monthly pay and had to eat canned beans for a month straight to save money.

"Is that all?" asked Suarez.

"Um… no. It isn't even half of what I've done and we haven't even gotten to Carter."

"Please forget that I even asked," responded Geng, not wanting to know any more details.

"Why is that every time I'm around you, weird things happen?" asked Hayes rhetorically.

* * *

**March 19th Chulak 1000 GMT**

"Ladies and gentlemen welcome Bravo Company. I'm Captain Sanders, your Company Commander. We're a tight unit here and I hope that you'll fit right in." He told the new troops assembled in front of him. "First Sergeant Masters here has your platoon assignments." He pointed to Masters who was standing beside him. "Fall out and get your platoon assignments and report to your respective units. Lieutenant Roberts please stay behind. I need to talk to you in private."

The assembled men and women fell out of formation and turned to the First Sergeant, eager to get their assignments and get settled in their new unit.

When the enlisted personnel, were doing this Sanders approached the newly arrived Lieutenant. "Lieutenant. Like I said earlier, welcome aboard to Bravo Company. You're going to be taking command of 1st Platoon."

"Excellent sir. I'll get started right away. As senior Lieutenant, when do you want me to begin my duties of Company XO?"

"That's what I wanted to talk about in private. Although you are the senior Lieutenant present, you will not be assigned the duties as XO."

"Sir?"

"Due to your seniority, you are officially the XO according to the chain of command and will assume command of Bravo Company upon my death, transfer or incapacitation. However you will not have the duties that come with the job. Due to your recent transfer from the Military Police branch to Infantry and your inexperience as an infantry officer, Lieutenant Hurst will still execute the duties of Company XO although he will not have the title."

"Sir. I've served as XO of a MP Company and am well acquainted with the running of a Company. I am capable of doing this."

"_Lieutenant_ I am well aware of your experience as an XO. In fact, I would be more than happy to give the duty to you. However you're going to have enough trouble running an infantry platoon to be bothered with the duties as XO."

"Sir. I've seen combat before. I was in the Sunni Triangle."

"Commanding a Mechanized Infantry platoon is whole different ballpark compared to being in charge of a Military Police unit. This discussion is closed Lieutenant. Report to your platoon. Dismissed."

Grudgingly, she saluted the Captain and spun on her heel beginning to walk away.

"Lieutenant. I forgot to mention one thing," he said stopping her in her tracks. "Under standing orders on the battlefield, not under any circumstances are you salute myself or any other senior officer present. We don't want to provide targets to snipers," he told her.

"Understood sir," she replied gritting her teeth, angry at being chastised and walked to her platoon.

After Masters had completed handing out platoon assignments, he went up to Sanders. "How'd it go?"

"Not good."

"That bad?"

"Yeah."

"She a ring knocker?"

"It's too early to tell. I hope not," he sighed. The last couple of days had not gone well for him at all.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**(1)- Ring Knocker, a pejorative term used by US military personnel to describe those who graduated from the Service Academies and makes a very big deal about it to their colleagues.**

**(2)- Oort Clouds are a spherical cloud of comets that lie at the very edge of our Solar System.**

**(3)- Beltway, another term for the Capitol and the area around it.**

**The friction between Sanders and Roberts is more of a professional one than a personal one. Sanders doesn't put a lot of faith in Roberts since she just transferred into the infantry branch, despite her status as a First Lieutenant and she has no experience commanding an infantry platoon, treats her just like any newbie Lieutenant. Roberts on the other hand, doesn't Sanders in what she believes is patronizing since she thinks that she can command an infantry platoon in combat just as well as anyone else can. In addition Roberts resents Sanders because he is a Captain already and she is not, despite the fact that she has two more years than he does in service time and is four years younger than she is.**


	8. Chapter 7

* * *

**Chulak March 20th GMT**

"Sir. We're picking up movement 10 klicks from our position and its definitely not wildlife," reported Hurst from his position which was nearest to the enemy.

"Copy that. Get ready. Looks like they're coming again," Sanders radioed back.

Unlike previous battles, Sanders was not with his men in their foxholes. Instead, he sat in the turret in one of his remaining Bradleys, with his head and torso exposed. Although he felt like a fucking REMF, an infantryman's worst nightmare, but he knew that he would be able to be more effective if he was right next to a radio coordinating the defense with a better tactical view and outlook as opposed to being right inside the foxhole where one could not see nothing but what was in right front of them.

Changing his radio frequency to the battalion network he radioed, "This is Bravo One to HQ. Come in please. Over."

"HQ to Bravo Company here. What is going on?" radioed back Jenkins.

"The enemy is coming again. ETA five minutes maybe ten minutes at the very max."

"Rodger that. I'll spread the word."

"Are we getting any support?"

"We have an artillery battery assigned to our area. If we're lucky we might get some Apaches."

"Great. Over and out." He switched the frequency back to the Company's Network once again. "What's the situation now?"

"The enemy is now within four klicks from us."

"Are there any vehicles?"

Although Bravo Company had only faced enemy infantry during their first engagement; the Army quickly found out that they enemy had armored vehicles too. Slightly bigger than two M1A3 Abrams Main Battle Tanks, the Ori's version of the Infantry Fighting Vehicle, designated by intelligence as the Archangel was formidable opponent. Armed with four heavy energy cannons that could move 90 degrees up and down mounted on top of a turret that was capable of rotating 360 degrees, the Archangel could also double as an anti-aircraft unit and could take down Apaches and anything else Earth could put in the air in seconds. To make things worse, they were near indestructible, requiring around five TOW missiles or multiple shots from the Abrams' main gun. These things were monsters in battle and were responsible to most of the casualties sustained by allied forces. To make things worse, these things had some sort of anti-gravity device that made anti-vehicle mines useless.

Fortunately for the Terran Army, there were few of them around. In addition, the Ori, having not fought an enemy who used mechanized warfare for as long as they remembered were only used to using the vehicles in an infantry suppression role were not used to armored warfare, while the Terrans, having fought in multiple mechanized engagements for over the last seventy years and were extremely experienced in doing so. Thus, making the scales a little more even and possibly for once slightly in favor for Earth.

"Yes sir. Around fifteen."

"Please confirm that," he ordered. If the enemy had fifteen vehicles coming this way, the battalion was going to be in a shit load of trouble.

"Yes sir. Fifteen. One five. Orders?"

Sanders disengaged from the radio for a moment. "Fuck!" he breathed loudly enough to startle everyone inside the vehicle including Ms. Somerville, who he had ordered to stay inside the Bradley for more protection. After getting his mind back on task, he turned the radio back on. "Hit those bastards with every TOW missile and auto cannon we got once we get within one klick from the enemy. All infantry units are to hold fire until the enemy gets within 700 meters."

"Rodger that."

He switched the channel back to battalion frequency. "Sir. I need an artillery barrage in sector bravo four," he requested urgently.

"I'll contact the battery immediately. What's the situation?"

"We are in deep shit sir. Not ankle deep, or even waist deep. We are up to our goddamn eyebrows in shit. I've got fifteen vehicles coming into my sector alone along with two Companies' worth of troops along with it," he reported.

"Fuck. You're getting those damn Apaches, if it's the last fucking thing I do. Over and out."

Sanders put the radio down back into the turret and grabbed his pair of field binoculars. Looking into the distance, he could see the enemy approaching with their vehicles leading the way.

Suddenly the turret of the vehicle of the Bradley began to move and its 25mm auto cannon opened fire along side the rest of the Company. Shortly there after, the Bradleys along with the infantry in their foxholes fired their TOW and Javelin anti-tank missiles at the enemy hoping to destroy their vehicles before they got into range.

Sanders watched as they streaked towards the enemy. His platoon commanders had been smart and had ordered their anti-tank teams to concentrate their fire on one or two targets per platoon as opposed to more to increase the chances of destroying the Archangels.

To his delight, five Archangels exploded violently sending debris everywhere with a sixth heavily damaged. Almost immediately after being fired upon, the Ori returned fire where Bravo Company had revealed their positions where the men and now women of his Company were preparing to launch a second volley of Javelin anti-tank missiles.

His mood dampened as he saw one of his Bradley's being cut up by enemy fire and then exploded, killing all on board. After fighting the Terrans for almost two weeks, the Ori had finally wised up and realized that the Terran's Bradleys and other armored vehicles were their most effective weapon and were responsible for over 60 of their casualties alone. _Well at least we had that much time to take as many of those motherfuckers to hell as we could _he thought grimly.

Picking up his radio and switching to battalion frequency once again he radioed, "Where the hell is that damn artillery barrage?"

"Mike. The battery's has just fired. The shells should be incoming right at any moment."

As if the Colonel was psychic and according to the junior enlisted personnel in the battalion, he was. The shells began to rain down on the enemy exploding in midair, killing tens maybe a hundred enemy soldiers. Sanders frowned. The artillery battery was using air burst shells, specially designed to kill enemy infantry and unarmored targets. Although he was glad that the battery had wiped out some of the enemy's troops, the barrage had not put a scratch on the Archangels, which were the biggest threat to his Company at the moment. "Colonel. What's the frequency of that cannon cocker (1) battery?"

"355000.1. Why?"

"Sir. Those cannon cockers fucked up. I'll tell you the details later," he told the Colonel urgently.

"Fine," replied Jenkins. He had known Sanders for long enough to know that by his tone of voice, it was really pressing and he could know the details later.

Working with the radio, the switched frequencies to that of the artillery battery. "This is Captain Sanders of Bravo Company, Second of the Ninth. I need to speak with your commanding office immediately."

"This is Lieutenant Colonel Smythe. Can I help you _Captain_?" an irritated voice responded back, emphasizing the last word.

"Yes you can sir. Tell your men to stop using air burst and switch to some good old fashioned high explosive. We're facing a heavy armor attack and to be frank, the barrage did jack shit. I've got nine archangels bearing down on my position and if we don't get that barrage soon, we'll be up shit creek."

"You're the Captain of that Company. My boys and I will get our howitzers reloaded with the right ammunition in a jiffy."

"Great. Thank you sir."

"Not problem. Oh and one more thing. Kill the fuckers for us."

"Oh we will. Rodger wilco."

Turing his attention back to the battle, he saw that his Company had intensified their fire now that the enemy was well within the range of their carbines and machine guns. However, the missile volleys had slackened after using up the majority in their inventory, with the many anti-vehicle teams switching to their small arms.

Now that the enemy infantry was close enough to use their own weapons against Bravo Company, energy fire began to whiz through the air with increasing fury and frequency. A few bolts flew by his head, nearly taking his head off in the process.

He grinned. Ironically in armored warfare, a vehicle was most protected when its commander was exposed to enemy fire. Although it sounded like an oxymoron at first, it was actually quite logical. When a Commander was exposed to enemy fire, he or she was able to get a clear, uncluttered view of the battle and was able to identify enemy targets easier, thus allowing their vehicle to engage the enemy before the enemy did the same to them and as a result increasing their prospects of survivability.

Just as promised, the second artillery barrage came and impacted detonating 40 high explosive shells in rapid succession, destroying two more Archangels and killing more infantry. Turnabout was fair play. Those monstrosities had been responsible for the destruction of at least three quarters of his vehicle losses and he was glad to see them getting destroyed.

As the smoke cleared, a nagging feeling told him that something was not right. That feeling had saved his life more than once; the first time, causing him to duck mere seconds before a sniper's bullet would have blown his head off and the second halting his convoy before an IED exploded, saving the lives of many.

Looking around the battlefield to see the cause of his concern, he saw that one of the surviving Archangels was rotating its turret to face his Bradley. "Fuck!" he yelled as he quickly dropped back down the Bradley's hatch down into the interior, startling everyone inside. "Listen up everyone, we're bailing out ASAP."

"Sir?" the Sergeant in command of the Bradley asked puzzled.

Suddenly without any warning, the hull of the Bradley shook violently as an energy bolt from the Archangel hit it. Mentally, he thanked God or whoever the hell was out there that the Archangel was heavily damaged and could only fire one cannon at a time. If the Archangel had been fully functional, he and everyone aboard the Bradley would have been dead. "Does that answer your question?" the told the Sergeant.

Needing no further bidding, the crew threw open the hatch in the back and began to run as far as they could from the Bradley, knowing that it would explode in any minute. Just as Sanders was about to exit the hatch after the crew he noticed that Chelsea was still sitting inside the vehicle shaking and frozen with fright.

"Christ," he muttered. She was a reporter, not a goddamn soldier. She wasn't psychologically trained for this and the relentless combat over the last several days must have gotten to her. She was probably suffering from shell shock or some other combat related stress disorder.

Realizing that there was no time to waste, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a rag doll, his adrenalin providing the extra strength that he would not normally have and ran out the hatch like a bat out of hell.

Sanders quickly dropped her on to the ground and threw his body on top of her to shield her from the blast to come.

Mere moments after exiting the vehicle, the Infantry Fighting Vehicle that had served as Sanders' Command Post exploded sending shrapnel and debris everywhere.

"Ugh," she moaned hoarsely, now conscious. The full weight of Sanders body and his armor pressing against hers was constricting her airflow.

Sanders quickly got off of her, stood up and helped her to her feet. "Chelsea, I'm going to pat you down to check if there's any wounds," he told her gently in a manner that he often took when he took care of his sisters.

He patted her down starting with her head and progressing down to her feet swiftly but deliberately trying to find any wounds. When he moved up to her right shoulder, his hands became wet with sticky crimson blood that was gushing out of the top of her arm. A stray piece of shrapnel from the Bradley had lodged itself in her deltoid and by the looks of it; it was going to be a bitch to get out.

From the looks of it, Chelsea had disregarded his advice to keep her vest and helmet on at all times and had chosen to just wear her ACU and a patrol cap, thinking that because she was inside the Bradley, she would be immune to enemy fire. Although she was right in one respect, tankers and those who crewed Armored Fighting Vehicles often did not wear body armor due to its cumbersome nature which restricted their movements even more in their cramped interior of their vehicles. In battle however, when their vehicles exploded there was little or nothing left of their remains, nearly one hundred percent of the time being unrecognizable to identify and those lucky enough to bail out of their smoking vehicles often suffered severe injuries.

Checking himself for wounds, Sanders found that he had suffered no major injury with a couple of trifling cuts and bruises that would heal eventually. However his body armor was completely ruined, the shrapnel from the vehicle had cracked the armored plate in the back of his vest, making it completely worthless, having completed its purpose by protecting Sanders' body from harm.

Sanders quickly discarded his vest, now that the once valuable object was now only a hindrance and began to speak through the microphone embedded in his helmet. "Lieutenant Roberts, this is Captain Sanders come in please," he radioed.

Although the radio that he had used earlier was destroyed along with everything inside the Bradley, like every NCO and officer in his Company Sanders had a personal man portable radio that enabled him to communicate with elements of his company at all times. However they only had half the power and range of those used by vehicle crews, making him unable to communicate with HQ and any support units. Coupled with the horrible position he was in, it made him unable to command his company effectively.

"Sir? I thought you were dead! I saw Bravo One explode with my own eyes!" exclaimed Roberts in disbelief.

"We bailed out right before it exploded and are taking cover behind the wreckage. You're in tactical command until I can get into a position where I can take charge. Don't let this Company down. IS that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir."

He then turned to Sergeant Jones and his men who had now clustered around him waiting for orders. "Are you men alright?" he asked.

"Sir. Other than some minor scratches we're fine."

"Are you men armed?" he asked.

"Yes sir. As per your orders," Jones replied, gesturing to the holstered MP-7s that every crewman had. Sanders had ordered every Bradley crew to be armed at all times and although many had objected at the time, right now the three men were grateful that they had their weapons on them.

"Orders sir?" asked one of the crewmen, not knowing what to do.

"First Private, we're going to make a plan. We're not going to stay here until the skirmish is over. Ms. Somerville here needs some medical attention fast." He pointed to a foxhole occupied by their fellow members of Bravo Company twenty meters away from where they were. "See that foxhole over there?"

"Yes sir."

"In one minute we are going to run as fast as our feet can take us to that foxhole."

"What about covering fire?"

"We are not open fire at the enemy. Right now, the enemy thinks that we're dead and I want it to stay that way for as long as possible. If we open fire, we'll reveal our position to the enemy and will only attract unwanted attention to us. In addition, the enemy is still by the looks of it, around 400 meters from our position. Our MP-7s have a maximum range of only half of that. We'd be wasting precious ammo."

"And of Ms. Somerville?"

"I can run," Chelsea said, gritting her teeth and clutching her shoulder.

"Bullshit," replied Sanders, getting the attention of everyone. "From what I saw, that piece of shrapnel hit a major artery. Right now, you've lost a lot of blood and most likely are feeling light headed, dizzy and a little weak from the blood loss. I am I correct?"

"Yes," she replied. Right now, she was struggling to stay upright.

"I'll carry her," offered one of the crewmen.

"Negative Private. You will do no such thing. Right now, you three still have your body armor on you and don't need another burden to tie you down. Since my own armor was destroyed and don't have any major limitations on my person, she'll be my responsibility."

Sanders gently held her and threw her over his shoulder so that the top of her chest was in direct contact with his clavicle bone with his hands and arms supporting the lower part of her torso, particularly her posterior to keep her from slipping from his grasp. With his other hand, he looked at his watch. "Ten seconds," he told his men quietly, not trying to attract anyone's attention.

The four soldiers got ready to run the race of their lives, the muscles on their legs tensed, and adrenalin began to roar through their veins. "Let's move," he said somberly, knowing that this might be their moments in their lives.

Running for their lives depended on it, the four soldiers and one civilian ran to the foxhole. Remarkably, since the enemy presumed that any inhabitants of the Bradley that they just destroyed were dead did not notice the five until it was too late.

Sanders and the three crewmen jumped into the foxhole, surprising the inhabitants. "Who's in charge here?" he demanded.

"I am," a man wearing the insignia of Sergeant First Class replied patronizingly. Suddenly recognizing the man before him he saluted and asked, "Captain Sanders?"

"At ease Sergeant Carmella. Do you have a medic with you? She needs medical attention fast," he gestured to Chelsea who he was still carrying.

"We did sir," he pointed to a headless corpse of what used to be one of Sanders' men lying right next to Sanders.

_Fuck_. This day was going from bad to worse. "Pass me his first aid kit will you?"

"Sure thing sir," he said and reached over the medic's corpse, grabbed the kit and handed it to Sanders.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Anything else sir?" he asked eager to return to the fighting.

"Assign these three to what ever positions you need filled," he pointed to the former crew of the Bradley. "I'll take command once I patch up Ms. Somerville."

"Yes sir. You three man that machine gun! I want that M312 firing yesterday!" he ordered, pointing to the unmanned machine gun, its former operators lying dead beside it.

Sanders gently put her down into the bottom of the foxhole. Sitting down beside her, he told her slowly. "Chelsea, I'm going to draw my knife so I can cut away your sleeve to get a better look at your wound."

Slowly reaching down to his thigh, he grabbed his knife that was clipped on to the tactical holster on his thigh that was always on his person. Like his M1911 Pistol, his knife was not standard Army issue. Upon graduation from NMMI, his grandfather gave him an Emerson Commander. In addition to being a world-renowned knife used by elite Special Operations Forces such as the Navy Seals, it was the last thing he received from the old man before he died.

Sanders unfolded his knife and began to slowly cut off the right sleeve of her ACU. When he was done, he took the sleeve before it fell to the ground and put it in one of his chest pockets for he would need it later.

Opening the medical kit, he grabbed a pair of tweezers and started to probe her wound, looking for the foreign object. Once it was located, he removed the object, dropped the offending object to the ground and proceeded to dress the wound with antibiotic ointment to prevent the chances of infection in the open wound.

Once the ointment was applied, Sanders grabbed what used to be her right sleeve, placed it right over her wound and tied it tightly across her arm, creating an ad hoc bandage. "Stay right here and sit tight. There's nothing more you can do. And if this foxhole gets overrun, well you've got your pistol."

Chelsea nodded numbly as she did her best to make herself comfortable and went into the fetal position, wishing that that this were all a dream.

Sanders grabbed the dead medic's M4 Carbine and his remaining ammunition. After checking to see if the medic's vest was intact, he removed the vest from the body and placed it on himself, knowing that it wouldn't be doing the medic any good and the dead man would have probably wanted someone to make use of it.

"Roberts this is Sanders. Come in please," he radioed.

"Sir. I hear you over."

"What's the tactical situation at the moment?"

"Not good sir. We've taken heavy looses. We only have three Bradleys left and our infantry platoons are down to forty percent of our total strength."

Sanders stared at the battlefield. While he noticed that the majority of the enemy's infantry and Armored Fighting Vehicles were dead or destroyed, there were still three Archangels active and the enemy still had a force of around three Companies worth of troops, three times the Bravo Company at _full_ strength, which Sanders did not have.

While his men were fighting and dying like the heroes they were, he knew that they alone could not stop the enemy from advancing. There were too many of them and too few of his men lest. If they were to stop them, something had to give.

Something did.

One of the surviving Archangels exploded in a hail of missile fire and enemy infantrymen began to drop like flies.

_What the fuck?_ After briefly looking at the remaining arsenal in this foxhole, he knew that there weren't any Javelins left and was 100 percent sure that the others didn't have any more either.

Looking into the direction of the blasts he saw 11 AH-64D Apache Longbow Attack Helicopters flying in loose formation, maximizing their weapons spread and ability to hit targets, while still close enough to support one another.

Sanders' radio came to life. "Sorry we're late. We just came back from another sortie when your request came and had to refuel and rearm before we came," radioed the Squadron Commander.

"Well its better to be late than never," Sanders replied back, glad to have the presence of the Apaches and especially their weaponry.

With the addition of the Apaches, the fight had now shifted in their favor. The enemy, knowing that the fight was now lost began to retreat. However, the Apache Squadron, intent on extracting vengeance for their fallen comrades pursued the enemy firing AGM-114N Hellfire II Missiles, 2.75 inch rockets and 30mm cannon rounds intent on killing every enemy soldier who dared attack their brethren in on the ground. Within minutes of their arrival, all the Ori soldiers who were once part of the force sent to overrun Bravo Company were dead, dying or wounded.

Once barrage stopped and it became apparent that all resistance had faded, Sanders activated his radio once again. "All right Bravo Company listen up. Although we knocked those bastards back, we still got work to do. First and Second Platoons are going to scour the battlefield. The R and D boys back home have asked us to retrieve any enemy weapons on the battlefield for further study. In addition Intel has requested that we obtain prisoners for interrogation purposes if possible. However, be careful. Intel reports that the enemy has a short ranged secondary weapon embedded in their armor at the wrist. Third platoon orders are to clean up the area around our foxholes. Medics, I want a triage set up two minutes ago. Lets move people!"

Sanders turned his attention to Chelsea, who was shaking uncontrollably. "Are you all right?" he asked concerned. She was exhibiting some signs of shell shock, also known to psychiatrists as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD for short.

"Yes. I'm fine," she replied, trying to keep from shaking.

"Okay lets get you to some proper medical treatment," he said as he helped her up to her feet.

"I thought that you already did so?" she asked as they began to walk to one of the surviving Bradleys, where the Medics were to set up a place to take care of the wounded.

"What I did was a patch up. I stopped the bleeding and cleaned up the wound. I did that all the time with my sisters when I was kid," he told her trying to start a conversation with her in order to keep her mind off of the hellish surroundings around her.

"Sisters?"

"I'm the third of six children, of which the remainder are girls. When you live in a cattle ranch in the middle of Nebraska, the nearest hospital is pretty far away. One has to be able to look after themselves."

"What is Nebraska like?" she asked, curiously. Although she and her family traveled across the continent during their summer holidays, she never had the opportunity to travel across the pond and was curious to know what the States were like. (2)

"Its very nice. Thick, grassy, and lush plains surround the whole state and the best part is that there's plenty of open space for everyone. You could yell at the top of your lungs at midday and no one would hear you. It was the best place a person could grow up in."

"If you seemed to love it so much, why did you leave?"

He smiled sadly, "The reason why I loved it so much was the reason why I chose to leave. How many people do you think live in Nebraska?"

"I don't know."

"A little over a million and a half."

"That's less than the a quarter London's population!"

"Keep your voice down. But yes, there are few people in Montana. The land is good for the soul, but not for the body. There's hardly anyone out there and thus, not very much economic opportunity and because of this, many are leaving the state in droves."

"Where are they going?"

"Anywhere. Nebraska and the other states in the Northwest were one of the US Military's biggest providers in personnel, you know."

"Why did you and your fellow," she paused in thought. "Nebraskans decide to join the Military? With the Iraq War going on before the Ori attack, weren't you afraid to get killed?"

"Yes. However remember this, Nebraska is literally in the middle of nowhere. If people don't get out the state when they're young, then they'll be stuck there for the rest of their lives. To us, it seemed like the US Military was our best ticket out of there."

"Stuck there for the rest of your lives? Is that a little extreme?"

"Not at all. When I meant that it was in the middle of nowhere, it was in the middle of nowhere. The largest city, Omaha has less than 400,00 people. The nearest major metropolitan areas is two days drive which is Chicago away all the way in Illinois. There is little or nothing to do all day except for operating a plow or a tractor and herding cattle. Because of this, a lot of people tend to have families a younger age, all of my sisters are married and have at least one child except for my youngest sister and she's engaged. If you want to leave Nebraska, you have to do it when you're young when you only have to support yourself, once you have a family its near impossible to move again."

"What about getting a scholarship to a college or university? Surely they had those available to you?" she asked.

At that question Sanders began to chuckle. Soon it turned into a full-blown laugh. "You've never been to America have you?"

"What is so bloody funny?" she asked indignantly.

"Chelsea, I'm white, male and am technically a redneck. There was no way hell that I could have gotten a scholarship. That's three strikes. Believe me I tired. I graduated a year early from High School and had a 3.9 GPA and they still rejected me."

"Did you get accepted into any Universities?"

"I got into my first choice Purdue, and Ohio State. However without the scholarship money, I couldn't afford it. Call me stupid, stubborn or prideful but where I come from being in debt is heavily looked down upon."

"Why is that?"

"Where did you live before the war?"

"Ashford of Kent."

"Alright let me explain. When you lived in Ashford, you bought a lot of stuff right?"

"No. I went to a boarding school."

"Fine, did your parents buy stuff?"

"Yes."

"You see in a vastly populated area, money gets circulated a lot. You get your paycheck, you save some of it. However you spend most of it on food, housing and other goods. Money gets transferred to one person to another. You have money, spend money and you get more money. Economics 101. Am I correct?"

"Certainly."

"You see where I lived in far western Nebraska, the nearest neighbor was fifteen miles away. The local general store was forty miles away. Money does not flow as quickly as in the UK. If you spend money, you won't have any more until the next payday. And due to the nature of my family's business, we only get paid once a year for the heads of our cattle. So we have to be frugal with what we spend our money on."

"You mean that you weren't …" she paused not wanting to say the word poor. "Well off?"

"We always had food on the table and had some sort of meat, mostly beef sometimes chicken every night. We were pretty well off. We had electricity, running water and a truck. Just because we didn't have a lot of money didn't mean that we didn't live well. We just didn't have as many commercial goods as you did." Sanders saw that they had reached the triage that Bravo Company was setting up. "Well Ms. Somerville, it was nice talking to you," he said as he left her with the safe and trusting hands of the medics.

Sanders entered the Bradley and searched for the radio. Upon finding it, he turned it on. "This is Bravo Company reporting in," he radioed to battalion HQ.

"Jesus Christ Mike! Where the fuck have you been?" asked Jenkins worriedly.

"One of the motherfuckers hit my Bradley as I was calling in an artillery barrage. I was incommunicado until now," he answered.

"Well its good to hear your voice again. What's the status on your company?"

"I've got two surviving Bradleys and an over strength platoon's worth of infantry. The rest are incapacitated, dead or dying. Give me every single unused file clerk, MP, and idiot doing nothing behind the lines on this planet. I need reinforcements immediately and I don't know how much longer we can hold on much longer."

* * *

Authors Note's

(1)- Cannon Cocker, infantry slang for artillery.

(2)- Across the pond. This is Brit slang for in America


	9. Chapter 8

* * *

**March 22nd, Chulak Forward Edge of the Battle Area**

"Montoya, Jefferson and Ter Horst! I want these ammunition crates moved to our foxholes immediately!" Bellowed newly promoted Staff Sergeant Jeffery Bowers at the three soldiers, who were green replacements assigned to fill the losses sustained by Bravo Company during its stay on this mud hole.

Quickly following his orders, the three hastily grabbed the cases of 5.56mm X 45mm hollow point ammunition, taking care not to let any fall out onto the ground.

During the beginning of the war, he was a lowly Corporal with three years under his belt leading a fire team in Second Platoon's First Squad, having only three men and himself under his command. However his Sergeant had been seriously wounded during the first day of combat and was now back on Earth minus a leg, leaving him the senior Corporal in charge of the squad.

After taking temporary command of the squad for three days, Lieutenant Hurst was so impressed by his actions that he decided to make his position permanent, promoting him to Sergeant on the spot thus finally being able to get his third stripe.

However just he was getting used to having his position and things were going good, well as good as they could be considering the fact that they were in a war zone and were getting shot at every day. Both Lieutenant Hurst and Sergeant First Class Warren along with most of the other original squad leaders had bought the farm; the remaining few not included had either bought a small piece or were already dead.

Captain Sanders, one of the few officers that he knew who actually possessed some brains had declared that some reorganizing was in order. In order to maximize the combat capacity of the Company he had ordered that all the surviving enlisted personnel who had been assigned to Bravo Company prior to its transit to Chulak be placed in command positions, giving each fire team at least one member that had seen combat, theoretically giving each subunit a capable leader. The soldiers that were once green Privates and Specialists were now combat hardened soldiers and were now Sergeants and Corporals at the very least and he, the senior NCO present was promoted once again to the rank of Staff Sergeant and was given acting command of Second Platoon.

"You seem to be doing a great job. They're actually beginning to act and perform like infantrymen," remarked a voice behind him.

Knowing whom that voice belonged to, Bowers quickly turned around and crisply saluted the Captain who was standing right behind him alongside First Sergeant Masters.

"At ease Staff Sergeant," replied Sanders as returned the salute.

"Well sir, given what I along with the other NCOs have been given to work with in addition to what short time we have to do so, we did alright."

The engagement that Bravo Company had sustained just recently was part massive offensive initiated by the Ori to retain the tactical initiative. After fighting the Jaffa, they naturally assumed that the 'primitive' and heretical humans from Earth would be pushovers.

However, it was a rude shock to their troops when they found out quickly that these 'heretics' were not as easy as they thought they were. The enemy commanders found out that a single soldier or Marine with a M-249 SAW or any other automatic weapon could quickly turn any mass charge into a very bloody mess.

After engaging the Terrans for two weeks, the Ori had seen their forces cut in by twenty-five percent. With Earth's subterranean airfields finally completed, they finally had the ability to execute their own air strikes against the Ori, shifting the tide of the battlefield more towards the Terrans and away from themselves.

Due to the fact that Chulak was in close proximity to Dakara and by default the range of its Superweapon making any reinforcements by space a very risky and foolhardy operation and the Stargate in Terran hands, the Ori knew that they only way that they would be able to receive help would be to conquer the planet, thus putting them in a Catch-22 scenario.

In an attempt to regain the initiative, the Commander of the Ori forces stationed here had launched a massive offensive against allied lines in order to turn the tide of the battle for the planet. While the initial attacks had been repulsed, they had cost the Terrans greatly.

Out of the original 200,000 plus men and women who made up of the combat contingents Terran Eight Army, only half of them were still alive. The XVIII Airborne Corps, mostly made up of light infantry had been hit the hardest. While they had yet to yield any ground, they suffered even more than the average 'regular' infantry unit and had been hastily issued Stryker Infantry Fighting Vehicles and were converted into a pseudo-mechanized formation. To make things worse, the Ori had no intention of stopping.

The brass, knowing that they needed to replace those losses fast had sent every cook, typist, clerk and secretary that they could spare with the addition of every soldier fresh from Basic training they could get their hands on to the front to bolster the weary and battered forces.

Bravo Company had received enough troops that to their surprise, they actually had more troops assigned to the Company than they did before they left Earth. While this looked good on paper, in reality Bravo Company's combat capability was still way below appropriate levels. Instead of replacing their casualties with infantry, even those who had just graduated from Basic with no combat experience at all. Bravo Company had filled its ranks with noncombatant soldiers, who probably had not fired their weapons on a regular basis in years and could barely be trusted not to shoot themselves with their own weapons. Right now, Sanders command was more like an organized mob rather than a well trained and disciplined fighting force.

The vehicle situation was not satisfactory either. While they did have 17 vehicles instead of 14, they only had four Bradleys. Of the remaining vehicles, he had five Stryker Infantry Fighting Vehicles and eight M113 Armored Personnel Carriers. While he was fine with the Strykers, he was not happy with getting the M113s.

The M113 was a good design and was the chassis of the vehicle basis for many of the vehicles in still in use by the Army. However the design was nearly twice as old as he was and was so old that his own father had ridden in one during his time in Vietnam. The direct combat variants of the M113 and had long since been taken from active duty and were replaced with newer more modern and capable vehicles.

However luckily for him, the M113s actually mounted TOW missile launchers in addition to the M2 Heavy Machine Gun affectionately known as Ma Duce to the Soldiers and Marines who used it over the last seventy years and were in somewhat good shape.

"Very well. Carry on," Sanders said as he and Masters left the Staff Sergeant to his unfortunate job of turning these abject monkeys in uniform back into fighting soldiers.

Once Sanders and Masters were out of his range of hearing, Sanders asked, "What do you think of him Top?"

"He's a good kid. Used to be all cocky and overconfident but he's matured fast."

"Yeah war does that to people," Sanders mused. Although he was only twenty-three, he felt like he was decades older. "You know if he stays around long enough, he'll probably have the position permanently."

"Yeah. Scuttlebutt says that they're Field Commissioning a lot of Sergeants to fill the gap left by the lack of officers," remarked the Senior NCO.

"Yeah it's better wartime to give an experienced Sergeant command of the platoon rather than put it under the command of a dumbass Second Lieutenant who can barely be trusted not to shoot himself. I'm surprised that they haven't asked you already?"

"Me? An officer? I work for a living!" replied Masters in mock indignation.

"Well don't be surprised if that bites you in the ass in the near future."

Before Masters could respond, one of the surviving Humvee units that the battalion sill had available drove up to their position. A soldier, a new one by the looks of her newly pressed and issued ACU stepped out of the driver's compartment and turned to Sanders and Masters who were the ones nearest to the vehicle. "Do you know where Captain Sanders is by any chance?" she asked, not knowing who he was.

"You're looking at him right now," he replied.

Not knowing standing orders not to salute superior officers in a combat zone, she executed a salute that would have made her Drill Sergeant proud. "Sir. Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins wants to see you."

"Now?"

"Yes sir."

He turned to Masters. "Hold the fort until I get back." He ordered.

"Understood sir," replied Masters as he watched Sanders get in the Humvee and watched as the vehicle sped towards the Battalion Command Post five klicks back behind the front lines.

* * *

**2nd Battalion HQ**

"Captain Sanders reporting as ordered sir," he said as he knocked on the hull near the opened door of the M577 Mobile Command Vehicle that served as the central of Jenkins' Mobile Headquarters.

Jenkins turned to the direction of his voice and exited the vehicle, now standing right in front of him. "At ease Mike," he said tiredly, saluting back in a manner that would have been unacceptable on a parade ground.

"You wanted to see me sir?" he asked, wondering why the hell the Colonel had decided to summon him to HQ. He already had enough on his plate to deal with and didn't want any more work to do.

"Let me be frank, Mike. The CO of the Third Brigade was killed in an air strike by some of the fighters that were able to break through our defensive net. I'm the senior, heck I'm the only original battalion commander left alive in this division. General Starnes wants me to take command and I've accepted."

It was then that Sanders finally noticed that the rank insignia on Jenkins' ACU had changed and now bore the rank of full Colonel. _Why the hell does this matter to me? _He wondered why Jenkins had dragged him all the way to Battalion HQ. He could have told him over the radio or his replacement would have notified him. _Unless_… _Shit! He must be out of his fucking mind!_

"As you know, Major Wander was killed in action a week ago and the surviving Company Commanders are all your juniors. That means that you're the next in the chain of command. Rather than get another officer from another unit, I've decided to promote you to Major and give you command of the entire battalion. While technically you will be listed as the executive officer of this unit, you will be in all practical terms total command."

"Sir? Are you sure about this? I barely have enough required service time for Captain and I still have two or three years before I'm eligible for promotion."

"Mike those rules only apply during peacetime. I know that it's hard to believe, but your unit was one of the most lightly hit. I know it's a tall order, but I need you to step up and take command."

Sanders sighed. He didn't want to take command of the entire Battalion. Commanding a company was hard enough. "Fine. I got one condition though."

"Name it. Within reason of course," replied Jenkins already knowing what he was going to ask.

"I want First Sergeant Masters Field Commissioned to the rank of Captain. If that's not possible, then I want his rank to be First Lieutenant. Although Lieutenant Roberts is a good officer, she's still too inexperienced to take command of a Company and do not want to put her in a command capacity unless I can help it," stated Sanders.

"Great minds do think alike," he mused out loud, chuckling. "I've already talked with the General and he's agreed," he pondered as he reached under his Body Armor and into the pockets on his uniform and pulled out some official sheets of paper. "Here's the paperwork for his Commissioning. All he has to do is sign here," he pointed to the paper. "Oh, don't forget to change your rank insignia," handing him a small Velcro patched that contained a single gold oak leaf as a Major.

Sanders removed the two double bars that signified him as a Captain and replaced it with the Oak Leaves that now identified him as a Major, signifying that he was no longer a Company grade Officer, but instead an officer possessing Field Grade credentials.

As he moved to hand his old insignia back to Jenkins, the Colonel cut him off. "Mike, give that to your new Captain. I don't have any more rank insignias left."

Now that the business of promotions were settled, he asked, questioningly, "When are you leaving?"

"Now," he pointed to a UH-60 Blackhawk that had landed, its engines idling as it waited for the newly promoted Colonel.

"Good luck sir," he said saluting him for the last time.

"You too, Mike. Give them hell for me."

"Understood." After taking one last look at the Colonel as he departed, opened the hatch of the M577 Command Vehicle and entered it. "All right everyone. As you all have heard, Colonel Jenkins has been transferred to another unit. I'm Major Sanders and I'll be taking over command of the battalion from now on." He said, announcing his presence to the personnel stationed inside of the vehicle. He turned to the nearest crewmember manning the radio consoles and ordered, "Get on the radio and contact the company commanders and First Sergeant Masters and get them to meet me here at the Command Post immediately." Looking around he asked, "Who's in command of this vehicle?"

"I am," answered a short but fit Lieutenant with the name **Barnes **written on his fatigues.

"Do you know where the battalion staff is?"

"They're located at the headquarters tent a hundred yards south of here."

"Thanks Lieutenant."

"Not a problem sir."

Sanders exited the vehicle and ran to the command tent, the job of running the daily and combat operations of a battalion of 700 men and women solely on his mind, with everything else forgotten.

* * *

**White House, Washington D.C, Former United States of America, Sol III, Sol**

"Let's hear it," stated President Hayes, eager to get it over with the news that he had to hear. He was finally glad to be back in Washington, with its familiar landmarks and surroundings. While Geneva was pleasant, it didn't make him feel at home like Washington in which he had spent over a quarter of is life in.

Under the Terran Federal Constitution, the government would have four Capitols instead of one. After the first attempt by the Ori to conquer Earth, the capitols of each of the individual nations were the first cities hit by Ori Battlecruisers, effectively decapitating the command structure of entire nations quickly and painlessly. Having learned their lesson the first time around, the Terran Federal Republic immediately began to plan and construct the sites of their new capitols at a healthy distance away from each other.

The Executive Branch would be based at Washington D.C with the White House being the official residence of the President of the Terran Federal Republic.

The Judicial Branch would be based at Beijing where the Supreme Court would hear its cases and pass judgments upon them.

The General Assembly would reside in Johannesburg while the upper house of the Legislature; the Senate would stay in Geneva where it currently conducted its business.

While this might have seen impractical before the war started, the mass proliferation of matter transmission technologies had enabled people to be able to go from one side of the planet to the other in less than a minute. A person could live in Shanghai but go to work in Los Angeles and still return in time for dinner. Thus any surprise attack on Earth, would result in the Command and Control structure of the Government being able to survive.

"As of March 22nd 0500, the casualties of our operations stand as thus. 95,532 killed in action, 60,975 wounded in action and 12,341 missing in action and with utter certainty presumed dead," stated O'Neill as emotionlessly as he could.

"Why do you presume that they're automatically dead?" asked the Foreign Minister, puzzled and a little shocked at the General's decision to classify those missing in action as already dead.

"As you are well aware, we do have special operations units behind enemy lines. Information gathered through them has shown that the enemy has standing orders to execute our troops upon surrender, disregarding the fact if they are armed or not. Intelligence has informed us that we have become somewhat legendary and are a symbol for resistance against the Ori. Unlike prisoners that they take from other worlds in which they'll try to convert to their religion, they have declared that anyone born on this planet to be abominations towards the Ori and are to be destroyed immediately."

"How have we become so… well known? Surely there are other powers that have a higher technological base than we do."

"Well fifteen years ago, when Earth started to use the Gate on a frequent basis, the galaxy was dominated by the Goa'uld. We were the only force other than the Asgard who had the spine to stand up to the snakeheads despite the fact that they we were at least two hundred years behind them technologically and militarily and we still cleaned their clocks. Now that the Ori have come, who in fact are much more powerful than the Goa'uld, and even they still can't defeat Earth has bolstered the resolve of the majority of the galaxy. Adding to this effect is that 90 of the human civilizations out there can still trace their roots to our planet."

"So we're the saviors to the rest of the galaxy?"

"Yes. It's the main reason why we're able to establish resistance cells and provide aid towards so many other planets so easily."

Immediately after the Ori attack on Earth, the Joint Chiefs of Staff had ordered 85 of Earth's Special Operations Forces to deploy across the galaxy in order to buy some time for a much needed and massive buildup of its conventional forces and especially the Navy.

While their primary objective was to launch a guerrilla style war against Ori in order to disrupt their efforts as much as possible, their secondary mission was similar to the now disbanded SGC. They were to set up contact with as many civilizations as they could find and if possible offer military aid and set up resistance cells against the Ori.

Because of this, the Foreign Ministry was working overtime as it came in contact with many new planets each day, scrambling to set up embassies across the galaxy and trying to court them into Earth's rapidly growing sphere of influence.

While Pangar and Langara were Earth's biggest allies, they were not by far the only ones. With tens and maybe over a hundred human and alien civilizations out there, they were just one of many allies supporting Earth.

With so many planets requesting aid, in particular military aid in exchange for their support, one third of the factories in Eastern Europe and Asia were devoted to this purpose alone.

While the Terran Federal Military used mainly American and Western European designed and upgraded pre-war Military Systems, the majority of its newfound allies found them to be much to expensive for mass use and preferred to purchase Eastern European and Chinese weapons systems, which were almost as good as their western designed counter parts and were at a third of the price.

There were so many orders for T-80 and T-90 main battle tanks, BTR-90 Armored Personnel Carriers and BMP-3 Infantry Fighting Vehicles that the tank factory Uralvagonzavod, in Russia was operating at full capacity and had eight month's worth of back orders that needed to be filled immediately.

While at the moment, the AK-47 and its descendents was the most common weapon visible on Earth but that would soon change. With the way things were going, the AK was going to be the most prevalent weapon in the entire _galaxy_. After two years, Izhevsk Mechanical Works had produced over 200 million AK-103 Assault Rifles, the latest version of the venerable AK-47 to issue to any resistance and planetary defense forces willing to fight the Ori.

In short, the Global Military-Industrial Complex was eating its heart out. With over 40 of the economy devoted towards arms manufacturing, Defense Contractors such as Boeing, MBDA, Norinco, BAE and Lockheed Martin had become key players in the Terran Financial System.

"Why are we getting such high casualty rates?" asked Hayes, the average amount of soldiers dying per day was far greater than anything this planet had ever endured.

"My God, that's about 5,000 a day!" exclaimed Abarano after calculating the losses, shocked at the losses.

"That isn't exactly true Mr. President."

"Explain."

"The casualties in the battle for Chulak are being brought forth in waves. The Ori launch an attack and they suffer casualties regroup, recover their losses and we do the same and it all starts over again. So if the Ori launch an attack on our lines on Wednesday, we'll have 18,000 or so casualties ranging in severity from wounded to killed in action. However they'll spend Thursday through Saturday recovering and on Sunday they'll hit our lines again. They're pretty much doing what the Europeans did during World War I when they tried to take their opponents trenches by ordering a mass charge against our lines.

"However, like the European powers found in the Great War, they found out that running into a hail of bullets is hazardous to one's health. A sixteen year-old kid fresh out of basic training, armed with an automatic weapon can easily mow down at least twenty Ori warriors on average during a skirmish.

"However pursuing the same strategy except for they're doing it non stop."

"Why?"

"Before they came in contact with us, the Ori have never tasted defeat and have quickly overwhelmed their opponents. When we first fought them, they regarded us as nothing more than a mere nuisance, like a fly is to an elephant. That's why they only sent two ships to subdue us. They assumed that the Free Jaffa Nation was to be their primary opponent and had devoted most of their resources to bring them to heel."

"Its because of their Superweapon right?"

"Yes Mr. President. Before we engaged them, the weapon was the only thing that could destroy their ships on a consistent basis. That's why they threw their ships as soon as they got out of the yards against Dakara in hopes of destroying the weapon."

"However now that we're the head of a galactic coalition to kick them out of this galaxy, they're focusing their attention against us and our allies. For each day that we continue to stand, the task of subduing this galaxy grows infinitely harder. When the Ori first landed on Chulak, they had a force of ten million troops. Now they only have less than eight. Their morale is quickly plummeting and some of their units are borderline mutinous. They have to win this battle in order to save face. This offensive will determine the battle for Chulak. It's a race against time, to see which runs out first. Our lines or their supply of men."

"What have we done to make sure that we'll win?"

"We've shanghaied very non combatant soldier who isn't a doctor, nurse or mechanic and issued them a rifle and sent them to the front. The Pangaran I Corps has just finished its weapons, doctrine and tactical familiarization training and is due to be sent to Chulak in two days."

"How many troops is that?"

"80,000 troops including support elements. It's made up of three divisions, one Armored and two Mechanized Infantry. They're armed with some good weapons; G36 assault rifles with AG36 Grenade Launchers, PzH-2000 155mm Self-Propelled Guns, Leopard 2A7 Main Battle Tanks, Puma Armored Fighting Vehicles and Eurocopter Tigers."

"Good. It's about time that some of our allies assist us in our efforts with more than words," stated Geng Xiao San, still angry that many of Earth's allies had refused to send their armed forces to assist the 8th Army that was fighting on Chulak.

"In addition to the regular supplies and replacements were sending, we've also sent a sizeable number of our new M4 Wittmann (1) Main Battle Tanks, to the front to replace some of our older Abrams, Leopards and Challengers in the field."

"What else can we do General?" asked Hayes worriedly.

O'Neill sighed. "Nothing, nothing at all. We've done all we can do. Now its up to the boys and girls on Chulak to do their part."

* * *

Author's Notes

(1)- Kudos to those who recognize who this tank is named after.


	10. Chapter 9

**Unknown System, Outer Edge March 24th, 2008**

At the very edge of the stellar system an unnoticeable subspace rupture began to form. Once the rupture had reached an appropriate size, the first ships of the Terran strike force began to emerge.

At the forefront of the force were the battlecruisers _Nimitz_, _Yamamoto_ and _Togo_. While they were only described as battlecruisers on paper and were the size of modern frigates and destroyers, with their heavy missile armament and ability to carry 16 F-302 Mongoose Strike fighters, they were still one of the most effective units in the fleet.

At the center of the task force were the heavy units of the Task Force. Two large _Montana_-class battleships, the _Montana_ and _Yorkshire_ cruised silently and stealthily their emissions almost non existent

At over six hundred meters long, they were twice the size of the _Daedalus_-class units and required close to two thousand personnel to operate them in battle. Designed to stand up to Wraith hive ships nearly six times as large, these ships were designed to be able take heavy punishment and dish it out in return.

Armed with no less than twelve double-barreled improved Asgard energy weapon turrets on its hull, its main armament was a fearsome sight to behold. And although, much of the battleship was designed with alien technology, the development of these particular weapons was actually of human origin.

Before this, Tollan, Goa'uld and even the Asgard used energy weapons that fired ellipse like rounds at their targets. When designing the energy weapons that would be incorporated into _Montana_-class, Terran engineers from BAE and General Dynamics asked their Asgard and Tok'ra colleagues why this was the case. To the humans it seemed very inefficient to fire a pseudo sphere of energy at an object when one could just as easily focus it into a narrow beam and possibly achieve even more damage?

The Terran engineers reasoned with the rudimentary equation of pressure equals force over area. They proposed that if one could focus the blast into a smaller blast area, then one could achieve even more devastating results with less firepower and energy expended and could have a higher chance at overloading the Ori battlecruiser's near impenetrable shields.

Having no answer to this the Asgard and Tok'ra scientists decided to test this theory out to satisfy the constant questioning of the Terrans, who they still believed to be primitive and inferior. However the results were shockingly right and after continual tests one after another it indicated that focusing energy salvoes into a small tight beam increased the destructive potential of the blast by 500.

In addition to its main guns, which were suited for close range combat. They carried a massive missile loadout allowing it to engage enemies from long range. As well as its high yield antimatter warhead, each missile was armed with a short ranged one-time use hyperdrive that was capable of making a micro hyperspace jump, making it capable of destroying enemies at extreme as well as short range.

While it did not have the ability to carry fighters, the sheer number of missile tubes on board prevented the ship from having any hangar bays large enough to carry fighters. Numerous railguns stationed on hard points all around the hull, made sure that any fighters attacking the ship would have a very bad day. The railguns also served a secondary purpose and provided point defense against any projectiles fired at them.

Unlike previous Terran capital ships like the _Prometheus_-class and the _Daedalus_ class, the Montana class was the first class not to have its combat information center positioned on top of the hull for everyone to see. Thus, providing a very large bulls eye that absolutely begged to be fired upon by any enemy ship.

Instead, the CIC was placed deep in the center of the hull. This meant that the command staff was safe from direct enemy fire, meaning that the enemy could not focus all of their firepower at an exposed CIC in hopes of killing the command crew and effectively decapitating the ship. This also meant that one did not have to wear vacuum suits during battle while stationed there since one had to literally tear the ship apart to be able to breach the atmosphere of the CIC.

While this meant that the battleship's officers would have to rely on external cameras to get a visual of what was going on, the trade off was deemed favorable enough by her designers to implement it.

While the two guided missile battleships, or BBGs as the Navy designated them were one of the heaviest and most important capital ships in the entire Navy, neither of them served as the flagship of Admiral Collingsworth, the Senior Officer of Task Force 12.

In between the two massive behemoths, was the Supercarrier _Simon Bolivar_ CVS-1, the pride of the Terran Navy. At 800 meters long she was _even_ longer than the _Montana_-class BBGs and had a tonnage that was nearly twice as much. It took over four thousand personnel to operate her and an additional eighteen hundred for her embarked fighter group.

While the basic design of the carrier was revolutionary, she still incorporated some design elements found in her aquatic bound ancestors. Like the aircraft carriers of the pre Ori war era, the hangar was placed deep inside the hull. In addition, Flight Operations were run in a structure mounted on top of hull for better visibility and coordination. However all similarities to previous carrier designs stopped at that.

The catapults of the inside the hull with the end situated at the very fore of the ship. This allowed the fighter to be protected from enemy fire until last second as it launched off of the carrier and into battle. The design of the catapult was electromagnetically based, similar to the railguns in use by the TFN and allowed it launch a fighter every fifteen seconds. The Bolivar had twelve of those, allowing it to launch a whole squadron at a time and could launch its entire complement quickly.

One the sides of the vessel two small landing bays were placed to allow the fighters to land. These bays were one of the most heavily shielded areas in the carrier for obvious reasons. The openings of the two landing bays were retractable into the hull, allowing them to be closed and inaccessible on the outside off when they weren't in use.

The _Bolivar_'s massive and cavernous internal hangar allowed it to be able hold up to 300 fighters in its hull. However even with half of the fighter squadrons originally assigned to the _Daedalus_-class battlecruisers and the sole surviving squadron from the _De Gaulle_ transferring over to the _Bolivar_ to join the fifteen squadrons already stationed there, a total sum of 22 squadrons and 254 fighters, her cavernous bays still remained under full capacity.

Currently the Terran Federal Republic had fewer than 1500 trained pilots in its arsenal and while they were more than willing to take the fight to the enemy, the Joint Chiefs of Staff along with the President and his cabinet were hesitant at sending more than 20 of their naval forces, the only real assets that they currently possessed away from their home system.

Until the Space Force got itself fully organized and established, meaning that there were sufficient amounts of Orbital Weapons Platforms and Fortresses completed to adequately protect the Solar System, specifically Earth and the hydrogen refineries in orbit around Jupiter, the Navy would have to keep most of its assets at home to guard against any possible Ori attack.

While this issue was the sore point in the relations between the Free Jaffa and the Tok'ra there was nothing they could really do about it. While it had one of the biggest armies, the Terran Federal Republic had one of the smallest navies which even after the influx of Asgard castoffs was still grossly undermanned and under strength.

To make matters more delicate, out of all of the major allied powers, the Terran Federal Republic had the biggest industrial base out of all of them and made up over 80 of the war effort, producing much of the weapons and munitions used by the allied forces The majority of that being the personal weapons used by allied troops. If Earth was lost, so was the rest of the galaxy.

Like her third generation sisters, she had her CIC and Flag Bridge stationed deep inside her hull. Despite being nearly 2.5 times as large as the _Daedalus_-class Battlecruisers, her onboard armament was only slightly more powerful and was mostly armed with railguns to ward off any fighter attacks. However, the designers considered her fighters to be her primary armament as mobile batteries capable of attacking the enemy at long and short range. If one factored them directly into her armament, the _Bolivar_ would be considered the most heavily armed ship in the entire Navy.

Unlike the battleships, her function in Terran Naval doctrine was drastically different. While the _Montanas_ and other, battlecruisers, cruisers, destroyers and frigates would be in the fore of the battle directly engaging the enemy in close ship-to-ship combat. The _Bolivar_-class Supercarriers and _Hartmann_-class Fleet Carriers still under development would stay back from the thick of battle and launch their fighters from a point of safety while accompanied by a number of capital starships, which would deal with any enemy vessels that broke through the front lines.

At the very rear, the battlecruisers _Kuznetsov_,_ Nelson_ and_ Zhukov_ served as the vanguard for any enemy who wished to attack from behind, their guns and missile tubes eager and ready to target anything that the detected the Task Force.

* * *

**Flag Bridge, TFNS _Simon Bolivar _CVS-1**

"Sir. We've just exited hyperspace," reported Vaughn.

"Inform all units to power down their drives and all superfluous systems. We're running quiet and I want us undetectable," ordered Rear Admiral (_Upper _Half) Collingsworth as he looked at the holo projector displaying real time tactical information and the status of everything in the Solar System.

Shortly after the arrival of the _Bolivar_ and her escorts, Collingsworth was declared as the permanent Commanding Officer of Task Force Twelve and had been given the appropriate rank for his job, thus giving him star number two on his collar and another stripe on his sleeve. While some in the Navy and the Ministry of Defense grumbled about giving him yet _another_ promotion and putting him in command, he was a competent officer and had seen action against the Ori, a uncommon for a naval officer but would not be such a rarity for long.

As the Commanding Officer of the Task Force, he did have a choice to which ship he chose to fly his flag on. While the _Togo _was a good ship, she was a little small and cramped for a command ship. Seeing that bigger ships with more protection and shielding were present, Collingsworth moved his Flag and his staff to the _Bolivar_ where he could command the Task Force more effectively.

"Status on the Task Force?"

"They're ready to go."

"Execute Phase One of Operation Taranto."

"Sir. You know we can always stop now and return to Dakara. One we launch those fighters, we are going to be committed to this strike," remarked Chandra, playing devil's advocate for his Admiral to present the widest choice of tactical options even though he was one of the biggest supporters executing the strike.

"Noted. However, as the Americans say, we're going all in. The die is cast. All we can do is sit and wait," Collingsworth said as he turned himself away from the holo projector and sat down on one of the chairs, knowing full well that everything rested on his shoulders.

* * *

**Launch Bay, TFNS _Heihachiro Togo_ BC-4**

"Sir. She's all ready to go," reported the Chief Petty Officer who was in charge of maintaining _his_ Mongoose.

"Thank you Chief," Sundov replied, visually inspecting his newly F-302A multipurpose Strike fighter.

"Bring back some scalps for us sir."

"I will."

The flight crew had done a magnificent job at getting it prepared in time for the strike. Spotless and resplendent, she was right out of one of the Lockheed Martin Strike fighter plants in Detroit and dazzled everyone that laid their eyes on it. In the short amount of time that they maintenance crew was allotted, they were even able to stencil his name under the canopy and paint his two kill markings underneath.

The relief convoy, in addition to containing additional ships, Strike fighters and personnel had also brought a squadron's worth of F-302A Mongoose Strike fighters, the newest model which had just gone into mass production.

Knowing that his pilots and squadron commanders were going to fight amongst one another to see who would get to pilot the new craft, Admiral Collingsworth had decreed that the new fighters would go to the twelve pilots in the Task Force who had scored the most kills.

This served a double purpose. While it did enable to the Task Force's most deadly pilots to become more capable, it also spread them out amongst the Task Force, making sure that the combat capacity of the squadrons remained nearly equal. While this did make logistics hell for the flight crews, the A model and the original had 80 parts commonality with one another, making it less of a hassle than what they originally believed.

Although the A model was in many ways similar to the original version, there were some obvious differences. While it resembled the original model and used the same parts, it was actually 20 bigger. The extra size had gone to adding a shield system, the first ever to be deployed on a fighter and more reliable reactionless engines that allowed it to bypass the laws of physics. Thus, creating a highly protected but maneuverable Strike fighter that was able to take on whatever fighter craft the Ori chose to put it up against.

While the F-302 still had the ability to carry missiles, its increased size allowed it to have six missile racks instead of four like the original model, allowing it to carry a weapon loadout one and a half times that of the older model.

The 20mm projectile cannon was also replaced. In its place a rapid-fire energy cannon was implemented instead. While it was not nearly as powerful as those used by their Jaffa and Tok'ra allies, it could fire nearly four times as fast. Thus making the odds of hitting enemy fighters higher and enabled them to strafe enemy targets more effectively than before.

After he finished the external inspection, he grabbed his helmet and climbed into the cockpit to perform the pre flight checklist.

When Task Force 12 was first assembled, Terran military planners wanted to send two squadrons per battlecruiser in order to pack as much punch as possible into the Task Force. However there was a slight problem.

The hangar bays of the BC-304 Flight II units, could not hold 24 F-302s and retained the capacity of only carrying 16 like the Flight I. While still incorporating some advancement in shields and weapons, the Flight II was just a slight improvement over the Flight I and quickly began construction right after the start of the war. The Flight III series, designed later on and had more time allotted to their development could carry two full squadrons however they were either still under construction or undergoing trials when the order to deploy to Dakara was sent.

Knowing their dilemma, the logistics officers decided to full up the hangars with sixteen fighters anyways. Two squadrons, each at two-thirds strength of eight fighters each would occupy the hangar bays. With the foreknowledge that there were going to be numerous casualties, military planners knew that over time the two squadrons on each battlecruiser would probably form into one in order to keep a reasonably sized formation in place and would send the remaining third of each squadron to the front lines to keep the remaining formation at full or near full strength.

After the arrival of the relief convoy, the plans changed since the planners did not factor the presence of the Navy's sole operational Supercarrier into the relief force. In addition to its fighter complement, the _Simon Bolivar_ had brought along the third flights of the already deployed squadrons, bringing up all the squadrons to full or near full strength.

To make room for the new arrivals, over half of the fighter squadrons stationed of the battlecruisers would be transferred to the _Bolivar_, freeing up the needed space for an entire squadron. This was blessing to Sundov for now he had two bays to operate out of instead of one and had much more space to work with.

After finishing his checklist he attached his flight helmet to his head, strapped himself securely and hit the button on his cockpit that closed the canopy, sealing him inside the fighter.

Realizing that he was ready to go, he keyed his COM to the frequency used by the _Togo_'s flight ops. "Flight Ops, this is Jolly Rodger Lead. Requesting permission to take off."

"Jolly Rodger lead, this is Flight Ops. Permission granted. Kill the bastards for us."

"Rodger wilco." Sundov taxied his fighter in preparation for launch.

Unlike the catapults that were installed on the new carrier and would be standard issue on every new fighter equipped vessel in the fleet, the pilots stationed on the older model starships still had to launch themselves off of the flight deck. While some part of him wished to be stationed on the carrier, he was glad that his squadron had the ship to themselves and did not have to share the pilot's lounge with any other unit.

Putting his engines to full power, he launched his fighter out of the flight bay and into the celestial void, commonly known as space. He proceeded along with his squadron to form up with the rest of the strike force, which was assembling at that very moment.

* * *

**Flag Bridge, TFNS _Simon Bolivar_ **

"Sir. We've just launched the last of the fighters," reported Vaughn.

Collingsworth stood up from his command chair and walked towards the projector once again. "Open a secure com channel to the rest of the Task Force," he ordered.

"Yes sir," responded, the communications officer stationed on the Flag Bridge. "They're ready for you," she said.

Collingsworth picked up one of the COM devices and turned it on. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Task Force, this is Admiral Collingsworth speaking.

"Today will be a major event in Galactic history. Today we fight not as members of our former nations or even as members of human species. We fight as members of a grand alliance of species across the galaxy determined to drive the Ori invaders from sacred land.

"Since the beginning of this war, we have been on the defensive, reacting to the Ori and playing by their rules. For the first time, we will take the fight to the enemy and will set the initiative, forcing them to fight on our terms not theirs.

"We may be outnumbered, we may be outgunned but we will never surrender if we still have a breath in our lungs, or any weapon in our hands. Under no circumstances will we surrender our unalienable rights of liberty and freedom.

"Terra expects her sons and daughters to do their utmost. Good luck to us all and may providence shine upon us. Collingsworth Out."

His speech finished, he calmly put down the COM.

* * *

**Hyperspace**

Sundov relaxed in the cockpit of his Mongoose strike fighter as it sailed through hyperspace during its five-minute micro-jump across the system. The timer on his HUD stated that there was still a few minutes left before he entered real space.

Knowing that he couldn't do anything while in hyperspace, he turned his attention to a photograph attached to his control panel. Taking careful not to damage it he removed it and began to stare at the photo containing his wife and infant daughter taken shortly before the war.

They'd been a happy family, well as happy as they could be with him being stationed in Siberia as part of the Russian F-302 wing stationed there. Siberia didn't offer much other than its vast isolation and its freezing cold winters.

When the attacks came, his direct family was spared. Living in a top secret Siberia meant that one was far away from any major population centers and during the Ori Incursion, any major targets.

However his extended family was not. Originally from St. Petersburg, he still called it Leningrad out of habit; the city was one of those unfortunate to be hit by the Ori. While the Ori battlecruiser was destroyed shortly after arriving, it was still able to get some shots off before it was destroyed. One of them hit the apartment complex where his parents had been living, killing them instantly.

He stared intently his daughter. According to the chronometer she would be turning one today. According to the latest mail from his wife, she had just mastered walking and was becoming quite a terror at their newly acquired government provided base housing at Pensacola Naval Air Station in Florida, where his squadron was based. Florida's hot and humid climate was a sharp contrast to the icy coldness of Siberia.

The timer beeped, signaling that reversion to real space would occur in less than a minute. In the same manner that he removed the picture, he placed the photograph back in its original place on the control panel, ready for action at a moment's notice once more.

"Thirty seconds until reversion," the Mongoose's on board computer told him. _Happy Birthday my dear Natalia, this is for you._ He thought as he prepared himself for emersion into real space.

* * *

**Ori Shipyards**

The subspace rift opening disrupted the relative calm and tranquility surrounding the area. Out of the rift, emerged over 300 strike fighters of the Terran Federal Navy, fully armed and ready.

Their primary target was the single Orbital Fortress in geosynchronous orbit around the terrestrial shipyards below, guarding it from attack.

The Orbital Fortress was designed to defend the yards against any surprise attack and was fully capable of holding its own against multiple starships. However the station still had a single vulnerability. The Ori still did not view small craft like the F-302 to be a threat and thus did not have any means to effectively engage them.

While they could have easily bypassed the fortress and gone for the shipyards on the surface directly, the fortress would be able to call for reinforcements quickly; reinforcements that would slaughter them as they reentered space attempted to jump back to the Task Force.

In addition, according to intelligence reports obtained by a Tok'ra agent, the Fortress was the only one of its kind guarding the yards from external attack and possessed the single FTL communications device in the system. Thus meaning that if the station was destroyed; the yard would be cut off and helpless under the guns of any attacking force.

The Admiral's plan was a risky three-fold plan. If it failed, then Earth would loose a large amount of its Space Navy and would be forced to commit even more resources from its already fragile economy to recoup the losses from this catastrophe. However if successful, Earth would be able to strike a decisive blow towards the Ori and boost its already sagging morale. Collingsworth was putting not only his career on the line but in addition the security of Earth.

"We're going in. All units stay sharp and remember your assigned targets. We need to take out that fortress immediately," ordered Captain Taylor the _Bolivar_'s CAG and senior pilot in charge of the strike group over the general com frequency.

"Jolly Rodgers, you're with me. Switch to squadron frequency," he commanded, wanting to communicate over a clear com channel.

"Rodger that," responded his wingman Lee, somberly. His sister had been on the _De Gaulle_ and the realization of her death had hit him hard, causing him to loose his carefree and vibrant personality.

As they sped towards the fortress, the units equipped with a strike package opened fire against the fortress, now that they were in range. Sundov could see the contrails of the missiles soaring towards, the target.

"Come on," he breathed, watching. If the fortress was not destroyed, then the whole raid would end up a failure.

The Fortress rocked as the missiles' warheads detonated. While the majority were naquahdah-enhanced warheads, a sizeable number had antimatter. Over half of the missiles were able to hit the Fortress' hull directly before the Ori managed to get their damn near invincible shields up.

A warning note began to blare. He checked his sensors and swore. The fleet had just lost the element of surprise and the Ori were beginning to retaliate. "We've got multiple contacts launching from the surface and the fortress. Split off into wing pairs and engage. Jolly Rodger two, form up on me," he ordered as he vectored towards the incoming Furies.

"Aye aye Skipper," replied Lee, his Mongoose right behind his Commander's.

* * *

**Flag Bridge, TFNS _Bolivar_**

"Admiral! The fighters have emerged from hyperspace and have begun their attack!" exclaimed a youthful Lieutenant at the communications console, young enough that he was unable to keep his voice normal in times of great stress.

"Is the Fortress destroyed?" he asked immediately.

The Lieutenant paused, his headphones listening in on the reports made by Collingsworth's squadron leaders. "No sir. They were able to severely damage the fortress, however the Ori managed to get their shields up before the last salvo."

_Bloody Hell! _He thought, trying to keep his composure in front of his officers. It wouldn't do to appear panicky, for his men out there expected their Admiral to remain calm and unfazed at all times and not doing so would incite panic.

"Orders sir?" asked the junior officer.

He paused, knowing that the orders that he issued now would determine whether or not the raid would be a success or not. "Lieutenant, inform Captain Taylor to have the fighters transmit the coordinates of the fortress," he ordered.

"Yes sir," responded the Lieutenant before hastily operating the communications array.

"Sir?" asked Chandra, puzzled at the Admiral's sudden order and again providing the voice of caution to Collingsworth.

"Commander, once we get the coordinates, the _Montana_ and _Yorkshire_ will be able to fire their hyper missiles at the Fortress, allowing us to destroy it for good."

"Understood," Chandra nodded now understanding the reasoning behind Collingsworth's thinking.

* * *

**Ori Shipyards**

"Enemy energy weapons fire tracking us sir," reported Lee.

"I see it," responded Sundov. Some of the surviving weapons batteries were doing their best to track the fighters in hope of destroying them. While the large weapons batteries on the Fortress were designed to take out massive capital starships had a low chance of hitting a small and nimble strike fighter, Sundov was in no mood to take any chances. A single hit would be more than able to cause his Mongoose to _disappear_, and even flying near the emission had a high chance of shorting out the Mongoose's electrical systems.

The two executed textbook perfect barrel rolls that would have made their flight instructors proud as they pursued a lone Ori Fury, the Ori ship speeding towards the fortress in hopes of evading the two human fighters.

However it was to no avail. His helmet beeped as the targeting system on his helmet-mounted heads up display changed from red to green, indicating that he had a lock.

Immediately Sundov pulled the trigger, and watched as the bursts from his new rapid fire energy cannon tore the fragile Ori fighter craft apart, killing its occupant instantly.

"The poor bastard never had a chance," he remarked nonchalantly after the brief but violent explosion faded away, knowing that he had just killed another human being.

"All's fair in love and war," responded Lee bloodthirstily, quoting an old maxim and was glad that the Ori pilot was dead.

"True," he conceded.

"One more down and twelve hundred more to go," the Lieutenant remarked as they veered towards another Fury. While the Terrans were better pilots than the Ori in respect to quality, right now they were outnumbered a little over six to one. While they were arguably the best fighter force in the galaxy, six to one was a bit of a stretch and the Ori weren't pushovers either. If they couldn't find a way to destroy the Fortress anytime soon, then the raid would go up in smoke.

Banishing his worries from his mind, he once again focused at his task at hand knowing that he was unable to do anything but shoot down as many fighters as possible. In the back of his mind, he hoped that someone higher up in the chain of command had a plan up his or her sleeve.

* * *

Guys I know I am slow on the update. At the same time, I am also editing the previous chapters to make it flow with the story a little better so the older chapters that have incorrect term in them will be fixed shortly. So in order to appease you guys, I have decided to give you a little treat. Here are the tech specs on the Wittmann Main Battle Tank discussed in the previous chapter. Let me know if you want more tech specs included in the story.

M4 Wittmann Main Battle Tank

Primary Users: Terran Federal Republic, Pangaran Republic, Langaran World Union, and many others

Manufacturer: Krauss-Maffei

Height: 1.83m

Width: 4.27m

Length: 7.32m

Crew: 4 (Commander, Gunner, Secondary Gunner, Driver)

Armor: Tritium-Chobham Alloy

Primary Armament: Rheinmetall 240mm Electromagnetic Railgun

Secondary Armament: 1 X Coaxial General Electric GAU-17 7.62mm X 51mm minigun, 2 X Heckler and Koch M312 .50 BMG Light Machine Gun or Heckler and Koch M307 40mm Grenade Launcher mounted on Kongsberg Defence Remote Weapons Stations, 1 X RAFAEL Trophy Active Protection System mounted on the top of the turret

Engine: Rolls Royce MT70 4500 hp hybrid hydrogen naquahdah engine, BMW E50 Transmission

Reactor: General Electric T1G Naquahdah Reactor

Operational Range: Unlimited

Maximum Speed: Road: 144km/hr, Off-road: 121km/hr

"_My Lord Prior, my warriors and I are devoted to Origin to the death. We have crushed the proud Jaffa, broken the will of the Sodan, withstood the heretical might of the Asgard and defeated the once powerful Lucian Alliance. There is nothing we will not do to fulfill the will of the Ori. We fear nothing save one thing; the Tau'ri and their accursed tanks!" _An anonymous Ori Commander reporting to a Prior during the Liberation of Orban.

"_Armored warfare was nothing like what we had ever seen and had let alone heard of. The Terrans armed with a centuries worth of knowledge of this deadly art and armed with the best technology this galaxy could get its hands on quickly proved the lethality of this new doctrine, echoing what was to come. An echo that shook the foundations of the entire Galaxy and changed the face of warfare forever." _– from the memoirs Field Marshall Tanis Reth, Chief of Staff of the Pangaran Military 2038.

In 2006, in the aftermath of the First Ori assault on Earth, the newly created Terran Federal Military realized that it needed to upgrade its military to that of galactic standards. While it could upgrade contemporary Main Battle Tanks with advanced Asgard and Tok'ra technology such as the American Abrams, the British Challenger, and the German Leopard, this was seen as only a temporary solution.

The Terran Federal Republic needed a Main Battle Tank that could stand up to whatever the Ori would throw at it. Krauss-Maffei, renowned for its line of high quality armored vehicles was contracted for the task. With the assistance of Asgard and Tok'ra engineers and scientists and incorporating the advice of former Russian, German, Israeli and American Armored Officers who would take them into combat, the Company diligently worked on the Tank that would be known as the symbol of liberation across the galaxy and would mark the rise of Earth to a galactic power. The finished product was nothing like anyone had seen before.

The basic design of the M4 was radically different from what had been the norm in the Main Battle Tanks that preceded it. Unlike pre-war tanks, the M4 Wittmann did not have a large turret and instead contained the smallest remote controlled turret that could house its 240mm main gun and its coaxial GAU-17. In addition, the Wittmann incorporated four independently operable tracks as opposed to four to enable the tank to function even if half the treads were inoperable and were mounted on the sides of the hull instead of directly underneath to give the Wittmann the smallest profile possible, thus making it harder to identify and target.

A large emphasis was placed on the survival of the crew. The Terran Military knew that with the Ori outnumbering the Terrans by at least 20 to 1, they needed every trained soldier that they could get their hands on. While the loss of a tank might be regrettable, it was far more practical to replace a tank than a tank crew.

The crew would reside in the armored hull of the tank surrounded by the best armor Earth could build. The newly developed Trinium-Chobham electric armor was developed by English scientists and was more effective than the three substances alone, allowing it to survive nearly everything the enemy could throw at it. Like the Merkava, the Wittmann had its engine placed in front of the tank which gave additional protection to the crew and the access hatch was placed in the back to the tank allowing the crew to bail out quickly in the case of the tank becoming disabled during combat. However in order to even dream of scoring a direct hit on the armor, one had to overload the Asgard designed energy shields that were capable of withstanding multiple hits from an Ori Archangel's main weapon.

The most striking feature of the Wittmann was its active camouflage system. Perfected by Terran scientists, it allowed the tank to blend into its surrounding environment, making it very elusive to the enemy. The camouflage system incorporated a form of smart paint that allowed it change its pigment to its natural surroundings and did so in not only the human vision spectrum but the ultra violet and infrared spectrum as well. Many Ori soldiers were killed simply by walking straight into the Wittmann's range and were killed even before they knew what hit them.

The Wittmann was armed with a 240mm electromagnetic railgun as its primary weapon. The Asgard and Tok'ra scientists who were working on the project were puzzled at this, since once could incorporate a more powerful energy weapon and thus believed that it would be more logical to deploy in combat. However the military replied that while it wanted a high tech weapon, they also wanted something that could be readily repaired in the field since the nearest factory was light years away from the battlefield and did not wish to strain logistics to an even higher point than was needed.

Complementing the 240mm main gun was the GAU-17 minigun that was mounted coaxially on the turret. Historically heavy armor was combat ineffective against enemy infantry due to its armament and was vulnerable to anti tank weapons carried by said foes. With the GAU-17 capable of 2,000 to 4,000 rounds per minute, the Wittmann could easily hold take own enemy infantry.

While the Terran Military heavily stressed the combined arms doctrine, where different types of units would be put in the battlefield in close proximity to one another in order to complement each other, the military also emphasized redundancy in order to overcome situations were one was put in not so benign circumstances.

While designed to engage enemy forces on flat prairie like terrain, the Wittmann was also optimized for urban combat. The commander and secondary gunner of the tank operated the remote weapon systems mounted on the hull allowing them to selectively target individual enemies without exposing themselves to enemy snipers. The Kongsberg Remote Weapons systems were very versatile allowing the crew to operate a variety of weapons ranging from the M240 7.62mm Machine Gun to the Powerful M307 40mm grenade launcher.

The M4 Wittmann was first deployed during the last stages for the Battle of Chulak and saw major action during the last days of the campaign. While it was deployed too late to make any large effect, it quickly proved itself in Operation Celtic Hammer during the Liberation of Hebrida where a single mechanized brigade under the command of then Colonel Michael Sanders held on an entire Ori armored Corps as it raced to exploit a salient in the allied lines, which would have spelled disaster for the allied efforts at liberation.

The M4 Wittmann served for the entire duration of the first Galactic War. Even after newer, more advanced tanks were produced, Allied Field Commanders still heavily requested the M4 over any other allied tank. After a half century of service, the last M4 was finally retired in 2056.


	11. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: All right I have heard your cries for updating and because I am a nice guy I have decided to give you what you want. Just to let know this is only a third to half the way done and is a work in progress.**

**In Orbit Around Ori Held Planet**

Sundov looked over his shoulder behind him, his heart beating furiously. He'd already killed four Furies, giving him six kills in all and making him an ace. However his newfound status was worth as much as horse spit at the moment. A swarm of Furies, fully intent on avenging their comrades were currently hot on both his and Lee's tail and would be in firing range in less than a minute or so.

Even though he had shields, the combined fire of the Furies would quickly cut through his craft like a bullet through plywood. He had to think of something quickly or else he and Lee would be dead.

An idea suddenly hit him, much to his good fortune. He activated his com. "Lieutenant at my command dive down cut all power to your engines," he ordered.

"Sir?" Lee asked, as if his CO had gone insane.

"Do as I say _Lieutenant_," Sundov, emphasized Lee's rank, reminding him of his superiority over him, his voice offering no room for argument.

"Yes sir."

"Three… two… one..." he counted out loud for Lee to hear. "Mark!" At that instant, both Lee and Sundov dove downwards and turned off their engines, causing them to be completely stationary with no independent velocity at all.

The Ori Furies, having no time to react to this sudden move and continuing on at their present velocity and speed, overshot the two Terran pilots and their craft. Thus the tables were turned, the Furies were now in front and the Mongooses were in the rear.

"Let us go after them," Sundov said as he powered up his engines.

"Gladly," Lee answered as they sped in pursuit of the fleeing enemy Furies.

While the two fighters were far ahead of the two, the Furies were still in missile range and would be for the next couple of minutes. Sundov armed his last AMRAAM and accelerated towards the fleeing Furies.

Just as he was about to acquire a target lock, a voice cut through the general Naval com channel. "All units, this is Captain Taylor. Disengage immediately and get as far away from the station as possible. Use any vector that you can take. Do not prepare for a jump into hyperspace."

"What's that all about?" asked Lee confused.

"I don't know," responded Sundov as the two changed their direction and accelerated away from the station as fast as their onboard engines could take them.

Suddenly all hell broke loose as six hyper missiles launched from the _Yorkshire_ and _Montana_ emerged from hyperspace _inside_ the fortress's shields and detonated their antimatter warheads in unison causing the massive 2km wide defensive station to explode, completely destroying every object in a 1500km radius from the station and leaving debris nothing bigger than a golf ball.

When it was proven that most conventional weapons were largely ineffective against their shields, Terran military planners scrambled to find an exploit. One of the more plausible ideas formulated was the hyper missile.

Developed in a joint venture by MBDA and Raytheon under the orders of the Navy to provide a long ranged missile that would serve as the space equivalent to the BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missile used by the prewar navies. However halfway through development, the project was nearly cancelled by the Military due to its extremely high projected cost per unit, as the price of a single missile was equivalent to that of an entire tank _battalion_, something that the Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Subcommittee of Naval Affairs bluntly pointed out when the Navy asked for funding. And because of this, currently only thirty had been built, with no new units ordered in the near future. Unless of course, they happened to live up to their manufacturer's promises in which Navy would be free to purchase as many as they wanted. And if Collingsworth's Task Force were to survive the raid with their forces reasonably intact, the CEOs of the two companies would be very happy indeed.

"What the hell was that?" asked Sundov shaken, forgetting that he was still broadcasting across the tactical net.

"I don't know sir," responded Lee, hearing his question.

"Cut the chatter unless you have something important to say on my communications net Commander," ordered Taylor sharply. He wanted his net free and clear of any unnecessary babble.

"Yes sir," Sundov replied, properly chastised by his superior and embarrassed at his outburst. It was something that he would have expected out of a green Ensign, not himself, a veteran pilot with over ten years of flying experience as well as a senior officer.

"Captain," a pilot, who like Sundov was flying an F-302A stated out loud.

"What is it?" asked Taylor gruffly.

"I'm detecting a subspace rift opening thirty thousand kilometers form our position.

Suddenly the ships of Task Force Twelve began to emerge out of hyperspace. At the vanguard of the formation, were the two battleships with the battlecruisers covering the flanks and the _Bolivar_ herself in the center, well protected from any potential threats. The formation immediately activated their sublight drives to maximum and quickly sped towards the strike group, their railguns quickly tracking and dispatching any Furies that dared to threaten the formation.

Then the voice of Admiral Collingsworth himself was broadcast across the fleet net. "Congratulations ladies and gentlemen on a job well done. All fighters are to return to their parent ships."

**Flag Bridge, TFNS **_**Bolivar**_

"The last of the fighters have landed," reported Vaughn.

"Good. Losses?"

"Ten percent sir. Half of pilots on those fighters ejected and are currently being recovered by the _Nelson_. However an additional twenty percent have experienced significant damage and will not be able participate on the upcoming alpha strike."

_Shit_, Collingsworth swore mentally. With thirty percent of his fighters out of commission, the remaining fighters would have a devil of a time trying to complete their mission. "When will the surviving fighters be rearmed, refueled and ready to launch?"

"Fifteen minutes sir. The technicians are having some unexpected trouble arming the warheads on the B61 Gravity Bombs," the Captain stated, referring to the thermonuclear weapons that would be used by the F-302s on the Ori shipyards on the planet's surface.

"Sir," his operations Officer interrupted the conversation. "We have a problem."

"What is it?"

"Our signal intelligence personnel inside CIC have detected a faint trace of a FTL communications signal."

"When was it sent?"

"Our operators estimate around a minute before the fortress blew up."

"Fuck!" Collingsworth swore out loud. "Cancel the strike," he ordered.

"Sir?" asked Vaughn, wondering if he had heard him correctly.

"You heard me correctly. All fighters are to stand down immediately. The planned strike against the planetary yards below us is cancelled."

"Sir. We can still perform the strike. According to my intelligence reports, the nearest Ori Fleet base is five hours away," protested Tamarov.

"While that is true, they probably have ships patrolling the nearby area which could respond quickly. And even if they didn't, I can't take that risk. I do not need to remind you all that Task Force 12 contains three-fourths of the Navy's capital ships, two thirds of our battleships and our _only_ operational carrier."

His staff nodded grimly. Task Force 12 held most of the Navy's best warships. And if these ships were to be lost or even severely damaged, the Terran war effort would be drastically reduced and not mention civilian morale, which was already being battered daily due to the losses of Chulak would plummet.

"However," he continued. "This shipyard this shipyard represents a major base of operations for the Ori in this galaxy. If this installation were to be destroyed, the overall production abilities of the Ori war machine would drop by at least ten percent and in the local region of space they would have no production facilities at all. If successful, our intelligence analysts predict that it would take around six to eight months to recover, allowing their operations near our own area of space do decrease considerably as well as proving a point to the rest of the galaxy that the Ori are not unbeatable and establish the Terra as a galactic power, worthy of respect. As a result, the destruction of this installation is tantamount and must be destroyed."

"But sir," interrupted Chandra. "You just said that the we weren't going to hit the facility due to increased risk of getting caught off guard by Ori reinforcements while our fighters are away."

"Yes. A fighter strike on the surface on the planet would not be practical since while it would take several hours to complete. However like the Americans say, there is more than one way to skin a cat. There is another option available to us, one that is both quicker and more effective."

"Sir you don't mean…?" asked Chandra.

"Yes. Orbital bombardment."

"Sir. We don't have the ability to ensure that the targets will be completely destroyed. In addition our railgun rounds are made out of steel and have a high chance of burning up upon orbital reentry, rendering them useless, thus wasting our ammunition. In addition, the primary beams onboard our battleships are not able to fire quickly enough to compensate for the amount of rail gun rounds that will be lost. We discussed this during our planning session a week ago."

"I know that. However I don't think that we have a choice. Even if we can do _some_ damage, we'll be able to prove a point that the Ori are not invincible and can be defeated on their own territory. We only have to focus our firepower on a few select targets and we will disable their shipyards. Now realizing that their rear supply lines are in jeopardy from attack the Ori will have to scale back their offensives and their forward deployed battle fleets in order to protect their newly exposed rear by bolstering up their system defense fleets and causing them to strain the logistics even more."

"Yes sir."

The Admiral turned to the communications officer stationed on the flag bridge. "Lieutenant, inform the fleet that they are to take up positions directly above the enemy yards and to begin the bombardment of the planetary shipyards immediately."

"Aye aye sir."

**On the Surface of the Ori Held Planet**

The Prior stood impassively, his body rigid and unmoving as he watched the faithful prepare for the attack to come. While the rest of the populace had run in terror due to the news of the arrival of the Tau'ri, the Prior had stood his ground in defiance of the infidels that had dared take this system away from the righteous and holy followers of Origin the one true path, silently rallying his flock into action.

However while his body might have been tranquil his mind was not. Months ago, he had argued at the last sector conclave meeting to station more forces in his system to defend the shipyards from the cursed, the Tau'ri or as they called themselves, the Terrans who were second in immorality and apostasy only to the great arch-heretics, the Ancients themselves. However the most conclave's most senior Prior and the head of the conclave had laughed at the suggestion as who would need to defend their rear given the fact that the Jaffa were in full retreat and the Asgard were nothing more than powerful but annoying pests that lacked the numbers to do any significant damage on their part. What had made things worse was that the rest of the Priors present had agreed with him and laughed him out of the meeting, causing him to loose face amongst his peers and systematically destroyed his hopes of being sent to the front lines fighting against the heretics instead of managing this backwater any time soon.

When the defensive station in orbit had reported that they were under attack by unknown forces, the Prior knew that his worse fears had been confirmed. And for the first time in his life, wished that he had been wrong instead of right. The conclave had been wrong and while he knew that reinforcements were most likely on their way to deal with the intruders, it still meant that the yards below were vulnerable to attack until reinforcements arrived and drove the invaders off or the invaders chose to leave.

"Lord Prior look!" exclaimed a voice interrupting the Prior from his thoughts.

The Prior turned his head from staring at the yards and fixed his gaze on the owner of the said voice, recognizing immediately. It was Tetran, one of the local inhabitants of the planet. The Prior remembered that when he had first arrived through the Stargate, Tetran had been the first to accept the truth of the way of origin and the divinity of the hallowed Ori, convincing his fellow inhabitants of the righteousness of his newfound faith and allowing the planet to be claimed without firing an entire shot. "Yes Tetran?"

"The sky! Lord Prior, the sky!"

The Prior shifted his gaze once more and turned his attention to the heavens and his blood ran cold. It appeared that the Tau'ri were beginning to bombard the planet below with what appeared to be projectiles, traveling at a speed that few 'normal' humans could track. While a number of them, about half appeared to be burning up upon reentry into the planet's atmosphere, the Prior knew that more than enough of them were going to survive reentry. "Tetran," he said urgently.

"Yes Lord Prior?"

"I have a task for you. Swear to me that whatever you do, you will fulfill this task no matter what," the Prior insisted.

"I swear Lord Prior. I surely obey as the Ori are holy, I shall do as you wish for you are their messenger and I am bound to obey."

"Tetran. Get the men and especially the women and the children out of here and into the shelters immediately."

"Yes my Lord Prior. And what about you?"

"Do not worry about me. Go now!"

"But Lord Prior…"

"Am I not the voice of the Ori!" he snapped. Realizing that he would be able to win over the man with honey rather than vinegar, he changed his tactics. "Do not worry Tetran. I will join you and the others shortly."

"Yes my Lord Prior," the man replied before scurrying off.

The Prior sighed in relief knowing that the irksome but well-meaning follower of his was now out of the way, allowing him to focus on his job. His Ori-enhanced senses had reported to his brain that over 300 projectiles were currently falling rapidly to the planet's surface, directly where the shipyards were located.

The Prior raised his staff, allowing him to amplify his telekinetic powers twofold, a gift form the hallowed Ori to their most dedicated servants, sweating in concentration. Knowing that his life and the lives of his followers were at stake if he did not succeed, he focused all of his energy and power into stopping the projectiles.

With the Ori gifted telekinetic power now in effect the railgun shells, which before were traveling at speeds of over Mach Eleven and were increasing in velocity by the second, began to decrease their speed rapidly. By the time that the shells reached the ground, they fell harmlessly to the planetary surface making only a small dent into the dirt below.

**Flag Bridge, TFNS **_**Bolivar**_

"Admiral, we've completed the first railgun salvo," reported Chandra.

"How much damage was done?"

Chandra bit his lip nervously, knowing that the Admiral was not going to like the news. "None sir."

"_None_? As in not at all?" asked the Admiral incredulously, not believing the words that he had just heard. Surely some of the railgun shells must have hit their targets.

"Yes sir," the Commander confirmed.

"How did this happen?"

"Well sir, the shells that survived reentry were accelerating normally towards their target, until approximately five hundred meters above the target when suddenly the velocity of the shells suddenly decreased drastically and by the time they hit the target, they were only traveling at _five_ meters per second."

Collingsworth frowned. A scan of the target area had revealed that the entire shipyard was completely unshielded and had no defenses whatsoever. The fact that the salvo had no effect meant only two things. Either the scan was wrong and the Ori had developed electronic counter measures advanced to the point that they could fool _Asgard_ designed sensors or there was a Prior on the planet's surface. Intelligence had stated that the Priors had the ability to stop a barrage of projectiles midair, and thus Collingsworth deduced that it was more than plausible that they could do the very same feat on a much greater scale.

"Sir!" exclaimed his Intelligence Officer, running up to him, from his console.

"What is it?"

"We've done another scan of the area and we found this," he stated handing a printout of a picture that was just taken just moments ago to the Admiral.

Collingsworth nodded, as he took a look himself. It appeared that his guess was correct as one of the Ori's Priors were interfering in the orbital bombardment of the planet. Pacing back and forth for half a minute, Collingsworth wracked his brain wondering what to do, and then the idea hit him. After getting the attention of his staff, he laid out his plan.

**Ori Held Planet**

The Prior sighed heavily, his chest panting with exertion as he fought to keep himself standing. It wouldn't do to collapse due to exhaustion as he was a Prior, a chosen servant of the hallow Ori not a mere human. Besides it wouldn't be good to bruise one's ego, which was still existent even though he had listened to the benedictions of modesty more than three score as well as preached the same doctrine to new converts himself.

He had done it. He had saved this world from the heretical fire of the Tau'ri. The natives of the planet would regard him as even more of a hero and their faith would be strengthened, as their faith was beginning to slip as of late. And to top it all off, when and not if the Orici found out that he was responsible for preventing the attack on the planet, he would not only get the transfer that he was dreaming about for the last couple of months but the vindication of his peers. The Prior grinned as he pictured the face of the senior Prior who had slandered him months before.

However that was the last thing the Prior ever thought. As a two foot wide lance of pure energy fired from the one of the primary energy weapons on the TFNS _Montana_ hit the very spot that he was standing, vaporizing him and every molecule in his body leaving nothing behind and creating a crater five hundred meters deep and fifty meters wide.

**TFNS **_**Bolivar**_

"Sir, I am pleased to say that the target is destroyed," reported the Captain of the _Montana _via secure connection.

"Excellent. You are to be commended for your work as well as the gunner who fired the shot," replied Collingsworth

"Thank you sir. I'll pass the word along," the Captain answered before cutting the connection.

"Captain?"

"Yes sir?"

"Now that our 'obstacle' has been taken care of, the fleet is to resume bombardment immediately. I want it done quickly, the faster we get out of here, the better."

"Yes sir."

**Ori Held Planet**

Shortly after, the ships of Task Force 12 opened fire with another barrage. This time around, the Task Force staggered their fire, in order to focus their attention on the sectors that needed further bombardment, making their destruction of the planet based facility through and complete, leaving no area unscathed from Terran fire.

Unlike Nagumo who had ordered his pilots to focus their efforts on the berthed ships at Pearl Harbor in the last century, Collingsworth ordered his ships that the primary focus was on the yards themselves not the ships that were being constructed in them. However this did not meant that the fleet would ignore the hulls of the ships under construction below. Out of the thirty ships under construction on the planet's surface all of them were damaged in some way, ranging from moderate damage to complete destruction.

The Task Force spent an hour bombarding the planet. When they were done, every single planetary-based yard was a complete mess and would require at least four to six months for them to be operational, although a sizeable amount had to be completely broken down for scrap as it would take less effort for a new yard to be built than to repair the existing one. However the yards were not the only target. Every single building of note, including the machine shops, the power generators and the construction vehicle parks had been leveled, making the subsequent Ori effort to rebuild the complex even harder as they had to start completely from scratch and much, much harder.

**TFNS Bolivar**

"Sir, we've finished bombardment," reported Vaughn.

"Great."

"Sir! Sensors have just detecting multiple subspace rifts forming."

"Well gentlemen. It appears we have overstayed our welcome," Collingsworth stated, using the dry wit that the British were known for. "Let's as the Yanks call it, 'get the hell out of dodge.'"

The Task Force then immediately activated their hyperdrives and began to open up a subspace window of their own and just as the Ori Fleet reverted to real space, executed their hyperspace jump, the first in a series of a complicated jumps that would throw the enemy off track and would result in the Task Force returning home to Sol.

Here's a treat for you guys since I have waited so long to update. A look at the Terran Federal Navy and its Fleet Strength

**Terran Federal Navy**

**Command Staff**

**Chief of Naval Operations: Admiral Alan West**

**Order of Battle**

**Capital Ships Active…Building…Planned**

**Supercarriers**

_Bolivar_-class 1…2…4 (_Simon Bolivar_, _Elizabeth Tudor_, _Bernardo O'Higgins,_ _George Washington_, _Helmut Kohl_, _Sun__Yat-sen_, _Charles De Gaulle_)

_Churchill_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battleships**

_Montana_-class 3…5…10 (_Montana_, _Yorkshire_, _Alsace-Lorraine_, _Kashmir_, _Sudetenland_, _Prussia_, _California_, _Amazonas_, _Fujian_, _Saxony_, _Manitoba_, _Oaxaca_, _Massachusetts_, _Normandy_, _Caledonia_, _Hibernia_, _Oulu_, _Taiwan_)

_Yamato_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battlecruisers**

_Daedalus_-class 30…0…0

_Pendergast_-class 0…0…40

**Fleet Carriers**

_Hartmann_-class 0…0…30

**Cruisers**

_Marathon_-class 0…0…80

**Destroyers**

_Buenos Aires_-class Guided Missile 0…10…200

**Frigates**

_Johannesburg_-class Anti Spacefighter 0…0…300

**Auxiliaries**

_Everest_-class Fleet Tender 10…30…70

**Spacefighters**

Lockheed Martin F-302 Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 1400…0…0

Lockheed Martin F-302A Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 100…600…1000

Sukhoi SF/A-1 Kestrel General Purpose Strike Fighter 0…0…2600

Boeing SF-2 Cormorant Space Superiority Fighter Currently in Early Stages of Development

EADS SA-3 Pelican Anti-Ship Attack Bomber Currently in Early Stages of Development

Chengdu SE-1 Mobile Warning and Control System (MWACS) Currently in Early Stages of Development

**Naval Bases and Installations**

Norfolk, Virginia

Portsmouth, England

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Yokosuka, Japan

Severomorsk, Russia

San Diego, California

One Three-Kilometer in diameter Fleet Base Under Construction in Orbit around Earth at LaGrange Point 3

New Portsmouth Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point One

New Norfolk Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point Two

**More to come as time goes on**


	12. Chapter 11

**BBC Broadcast**

"Hello and good evening, I'm Charlotte Salisbury and welcome to tonight's broadcast.

"In the news today, first let's start with the Homefront. Earlier today, Members of the House of Representatives after six months worth of deadlock finally came to agreement about the level and amount of agricultural subsides given to farmers across the planet. The issue had been one of the most important topics for debates on the floor and had nearly resulted in blows between two Representatives from Guatemala and the Netherlands just a month before. While our political analysts believe that the House will pass this proposal, they expect that it will face an uphill battle in the Senate and that it might face further revision by the House before it is passed into law.

"In other news, Energy Minister Joanna Rand held a press conference, stating that another hydrogen extractor in orbit around Jupiter has been complete and will be on line in a week. She then subsequently revealed further information stating that plans to produce another refinery was in the works, however she neglected to state where the refinery will be located and when construction is slated to begin. This announcement was welcomed by consumer groups and industry leaders alike as demand for hydrogen via is many applications especially in fuel cells has been growing rapidly while the government and the private sector are currently scrambling to keep up.

"Now on to the news of the war. On Chulak Terran Forces are currently engaged with Ori ground troops in what appears to be a massed offensive against the defenders in a bid to finally conquer the planet. A military spokesman stated that Terran troops are currently 'holding their positions' and that the 'lines are in no danger of collapse.'

"And it now appears that President Hayes, has a live announcement to make to the entire Republic."

The screen changed from showing the news anchor and the BBC newsroom to the Oval Office with President Hayes occupying the desk, his face steadfast and his demeanor resolute.

"My fellow Terrans," he began. "I am pleased to announce that at 1900 Hours yesterday, March 24th, 2008 CE, under my orders Terran Military Forces lead by Rear Admiral Rodger Collingsworth initiated an attack on the Ori shipyards based at P1E-2149, destroying the facility and the ships under construction there.

"This attack marks the first time in this war that the Terran Federal Republic has gone of the offensive against the Ori and I assure you that this will not be the last. For too long we have been on the defensive, watching helplessly as the Ori gobbled up system after system and populace after populace were enslaved.

"To those who are listening to this broadcast in occupied territory, the Terran Federal Republic has not forgotten you and your plight. It may take us a year or ten years but let me assure you and your people that the Terran Federal will liberate you and your people no matter what the cost. For as long as one solider is fighting under the Flag of the Republic, we will not stop fighting no matter the cost.

"Thank you for listening and May Providence shine upon you."

**Ori Command and Control Station**

"Does anyone have an explanation for this fiasco?" asked Adria, the Orici, the chosen of the Ori and the their physical manifestation in the flesh, acidly to the assembled Priors congregated below her.

"Your holiness," began the Senior Prior in charge of maintaining the rear defenses. "We had no idea…"

"Do you seriously mean that you have spent literally no time, consolidating our holdings? Preventing them from retaking those worlds that we have just recently conquered?" she asked, wondering what had compelled her chose him to oversee the task. The man was a fool whose stupidity was only matched by his ineptitude in leading troops, the very reason she recalled why he was placed in the charge of the rear, where she had assumed he would do the least damage.

"Your holiness," he began once again, not knowing that for every word he spoke, he was angering the Orici even more. "It is only one yard facility. While it may be destroyed, several other complexes have been under construction for some while and will easily make up for the losses that we have suffered."

"Prior, it is not the loss of the shipyards that concern me. I have more than enough yards at my disposal, including that of an entire _galaxy_. What galls me is that the Tau'ri have the ability to launch a strike at a yard complex behind our lines, destroy it and leave before our own forces arrive! If the Tau'ri are able to do this, they CAN DO IT AGAIN!" She paused for a second, to compose her bearing in front of the shocked and dismayed Priors, who at the moment were wisely keeping their mouths shut.

"Prior," she began after a minute of silence, her eyes narrowing. "It appears I have no need for you and your services."

Suddenly the once standing Prior was levitated off of the ground and two meters into the air, his legs kicking wildly and his face for once showing the panic that gripped his face. Seconds later, his body went limp and his head fell to the side as his neck was snapped cutting all the nerves to the rest of his body and was unceremoniously dropped back to the ground.

The assembly of Priors, shocked at the sudden execution of one of their own quickly made a pathway for the Orici who was currently making her way, slowly towards the dying Prior daring anyone to question her authority. Upon reaching the body of the motionless man fighting to stay live, she bent her knees and leaned over the failing body of the Prior, giving a generous view of not only her face but her generous cleavage displayed by her revealing clothes as well. "Rothan," she began in a sweet tone, which was anything but. "You unlike the rest of the faithful who have served the will of Origin faithfully and competently will not ascend upon death. Instead, like the fate all non-believers your soul shall be forced to walk the mortal plain, damned for all eternity." She grinned as she saw the look of panic and ultimately fear on the fading Prior's face, taking a twisted but exhilarating pleasure as she watched him in his last moments as he struggled to stay alive.

Upon seeing him take his last breath, Adria swiftly and gracefully got back up to her feat, her demeanor changing once again from one of a sadistic murder back to the remote and icy leader that she wore most of the time. She pointed to the remains of the recently deceased Prior. "Dispose of this thing," she ordered two members of her personal bodyguard nearest to her.

Immediately, the two heavily armed guards marched towards the remains and unceremoniously dragged the corpse out of the room by its feet, completely unfazed and uncaring about the events that had just conspired minutes ago. After all, the Orici was one of the Ori in the flesh and who were they, mere mortals to question her divine orders? Besides anyone who was stupid enough to make a blunder this great and fail Origin as a whole deserved what they got.

"Now where was I?" Adria asked out loud.

"Your holiness, I do believe you were talking about the Tau'ri," stated one of the braver Priors.

"Thank you… what is you name?"

"Eron, Your Holiness," the Prior replied nervously, not wanting to rouse her anger and regretting that he had spoken up.

"Eron, effective immediately, you are now elevated to the rank of Senior Prior and are now in charge of not only the defense but the well-being of our newly acquired territory and believers. Do not think of this as a promotion due to merit but as a necessity required for you to exert your authority over the subordinate Priors in this region. I expect that you will not fail me, am I correct or was I mistaken in choosing you for this task?"

"No, Your Holiness. I will not fail you or Origin."

"Excellent. Now onto the Tau'ri," she fumed. "The Tau'ri are the greatest enemy that we, the faithful followers of the Hallowed Ori have ever encountered and fought against and are more dangerous than even the Ancients themselves. If the Tau'ri win or even survive this war, it shall be our undoing and the end of Origin.

"Many of you do not believe this. Do not lie to me, for I can read your very thoughts and emotions as if they were written on your head for all to see. Your darkest secrets are open for me to see as well as your deepest memories.

"Why the Tau'ri? You ask. After all they are just a bunch of primitives that we dragged kicking and screaming into galactic affairs. Even though they are finally united under a single banner, they are still deeply divided with many of their ethnic groups having long feuds with one another. Their Navy is third-rate as the number of ships in their possession is a little more than the number of fingers that I have on my hand? Their Army while large is unable to effectively deploy across the front lines and is completely reliant on the Stargate for interplanetary travel as well as armed with antiquated projectile weapons instead of proper energy weapons used by our own forces. Why should we consider the Tau'ri to be our feared foes when there are more advanced foes such as the Jaffa or the Asgard?

"Why should we fear them? While they like us are human, they possess something that we do not have or have ever encountered. They can adapt to almost any situation faster than any foe that we have seen before. They have a sense of determination and courage that is equivalent to the staunchest believer. When faced with imminent death they fight on with an even greater strength when most would cower in fear and fall into despair.

"Their warriors have constantly been at war with one another for on their home planet there has always been a war going on someplace on their planet. Our own warriors have not fought in years, the last time being the Great Crusade that unified our home galaxy. Their weapons, while simplistic and primitive are devastatingly effective. They are able to function in even the harshest conditions coupled with constant abuse and in the hands of a seasoned warrior, are deadlier than our own staff weapons in the possession most of our battle hardened warriors. They also have more of these warriors for us it takes years to train a wet behind the ears recruit into a master of the staff but their weapons are so simple that it takes months if not weeks to produce the equivalent result.

"There is not one day that goes by that our warriors do not die in our occupied worlds trying to maintain order at the hands of local partisans aided by the warriors of the Tau'ri that call themselves 'Commandos' or 'Special Operations Forces.' Our own forces have called these warriors 'ghost warriors' and 'wraiths'. Efforts to locate and kill these warriors have come to naught, as they according to our garrisons are near invisible, capable of striking anywhere at anytime giving themselves an aura of fear and terror into the hearts of our warriors.

"That is not our only problem. So far our efforts to pacify those planets have proven to be ineffective. For every arms cache that we find and destroy, there are two more ready to be found. Even as we scour those planets and search every speck of dust and finding near mountains worth of weapons, as if it were near magic more weapons appear. While we have conquered the planet, we have not conquered the _people_. Our efforts to convert them have been met with resistance. Each time we catch a rebel and publicly execute him, we create a martyr for their cause causing even more young men to run off and join their fallen comrades. While we hold the physical territory of the worlds that we have conquered, the Tau'ri with their infernal and demonic ability of theirs control the soul of the local populace.

"And now the Tau'ri have struck one of our production facilities far away from their home planet. Do you know what this means?" she asked the assembled Priors.

Seeing their blank faces and lack of response she continued. "It means that the Tau'ri have now become much more of a threat than they were before. They are no longer constrained by the lack of starships and now have the capability to strike us where we are weak. Before we attacked their homeworld, they were divided and quarreling amongst themselves. Now, they are united in their hatred against us, with a zeal that can be found only in our most devout of followers. I fear that we have awakened a sleeping daemon and that we have only begun to experience its wrath.

"However it is not too late. If we act soon, we should be able to stop the Tau'ri and their infernal black crusade from coming to fore," she said giving a ray of hope to the dismayed Priors. "What is the current status of our forces?"

"Your Holiness at the moment, the majority of our forces are currently engaged in the front lines while the rest are garrisoning our recently conquered worlds."

"Can a sizeable force be procured without harming or significantly weakening our current operations?"

The Prior paused before answering. He knew that if he told the truth, he would no doubt displease the Orici but if he lied he would also incur her wrath, albeit at a later time. He gulped, gathering up his courage to answer.

"Well?" asked the Orici irate at the Prior. After all, she had only killed off one of his fellows when she could have slaughtered all of them had she chosen to take that avenue of expressing her displeasure. They should be thanking her for sparing their lives instead of standing around like a bunch of blithering know nothing peasants that made up of the bulk of her Armies.

"No your holiness," the Prior managed to respond. "We cannot reassign troops at this moment without severely impacting operations in both the front lines and our occupied worlds to a point where the balance of power will severely impacted."

"Thank you for answering me in a truthful manner. I would rather be told the truth no matter how bad the tidings are than to be lied to. Failure to adhere to this will result in the same fate of our dear departed Rothan," she said in a sweet sounding voice, that the listeners knew promised malice and sadism behind it. "When will reinforcements arrive from the Supergate?"

"At the moment, four hundred more legions of ten thousand each should arrive in two to three weeks."

"And why the delay?" the Orici asked in a tone that promised both pain and suffering to the Prior.

"Given the massive and heavy casualties that our forces have borne during the war so far especially those forces facing the Tau'ri, our Marshals have requested that incoming troops be given extra training in hopes of increasing their chances of survival and their life expectancy."

"And you approved this request?"

"Yes your holiness. With the amount of losses our forces have suffered I thought that anything that would help alleviate our losses would be welcome."

"Unfortunately you thought wrong. Let me ask you a question. How large is our population?"

"Over five trillion faithful believers."

"And how many heretics do the Tau'ri and their allies have under their control?"

"No more than twenty billion at the most."

"It hasn't occurred to you we vastly out number them? Our forces could take twice the amount of casualties that we are currently suffering and can still rebound from any set back."

"No your Holiness."

"Inform the Marshals that their request for more training is denied and that I expect those legions to arrive in ten days. I do not care how many of our warriors die for they are expendable and can be easily replaced. Their lives are meaningless to me, I only care that our objectives are fulfilled no matter the cost." She turned to face the Prior directly. "While you have made a mistake, your motives were pure. I shall forgive you for your transgressions this one time. However do not make this mistake again."

"Thank you, Holiness," the Prior said before groveling on the ground, thankful that he still had his life.

"Get up," Adria snapped. "You are a Prior, not a mindless peasant. I expect you to act like it."

The Prior immediately stood up and composed himself once more.

"Your Holiness may I ask a question?"

"You already have. However you may proceed."

"What is the purpose behind the extra legions?"

"Why to launch a counterattack on the Tau'ri forces on Chulak of course," Adria, responded with a feral grin.

**Landing Bay, **_**TFNS Simon Bolivar**_

"Attention on deck!" bellowed the Marine Colonel, the Commanding Officer of the _Bolivar_'s Marine Detachment and head of the honor guard assembled to those gathered in the transporter room.

Collingsworth at the head of the formation was once again wearing his Service Dress Uniform alongside his staff snapped to attention as he saw the ramp of the shuttle descend, finally touching the deck of the landing bay.

"Chairman Joint Chiefs of Staff…ARRIVING!" bellowed the Colonel as General O'Neill who was similarly attired in the Space Force's equivalent descended the ramp along with his staff and personal security detachment.

O'Neill executed a salute and asked "Permission to come aboard?"

Collingsworth returned the salute. "Granted."

"On behalf of the President of the Terran Federal Republic and a grateful nation welcome home Admiral."

"Thank you sir," Collingsworth didn't know what else to say. After all he had not been the Task Force's Original Commanding Officer and had only filled in as a replacement.

O'Neill took a look his surroundings, gazing at the spotless deck, the ranks of sailors standing at attention, as well as the rows of F-302s that took up most of the space in the landing bay. "It seems that you run a tight ship Admiral."

"Thank you sir. However I'm only in charge of the Task Force as a whole, it is Captain Benson that runs the day to day operations and deserves the credit," he said gesturing to the _Bolivar_'s Commanding Officer.

O'Neill nodded. "My apologies then. My compliments to you and your men Captain."

"Thank you sir," Benson beamed at the General's accolade, happy to have impressed the Republic's most senior Military Officer.

"Admiral, do you have a secure room that you and I can use?"

"Yes sir," Collingsworth responded, trying not to keep surprise out of his voice. When O'Neill had arrived, he had expected that the Chairman would have wanted to take a tour of the carrier and had made appropriate arrangements. But if the Chairman wanted to skip the tour and get down straight to business, then it was perfectly fine with him as well as the _Bolivar_'s crew who if Collingsworth was correct wanted to get out of their stuffy dress uniforms and start their five day shore leave as soon as possible.

"There are some things that I need to discuss with you in private."

"Right this way sir," Collingsworth said and immediately dismissed the formation.

**Admiral's Private Office**

"Sir, please take a seat," Collingsworth offered the seat opposite of his desk to O'Neill as he entered his office.

"Thank you," he said, however before sitting down, O'Neill reached into his pocket and pulled out a small odd-looking device and activated it causing an annoying high-pitched tone that could be heard throughout the room. "It's a device recently developed by the Federal Intelligence Agency featuring alien technology to disable any sort of listening devices implanted in this room. The noise while annoying is key to the device's function according to our sound experts," he explained before turning off the device, putting it back into his pocket and sitting down.

"Are you implying that myself or any member of my staff for that matter are disloyal to the Federal Cause?" asked Collingsworth, who at the moment was very irate at what the General was implying.

"Not at all _Rear_ Admiral Collingsworth," replied the Chairman. "While you are a newly promoted Flag Officer and new to the privileges and responsibilities of Flag Rank, I highly advise you act like one. If you hadn't noticed your Task Force is currently in our home and only system and has attracted a lot of attention from both the media and the rest of the populace. And while you as well as I would like to think the best of our subordinates and comrades, we cannot afford to take this chance. Remember what the Navy says loose lips sink ships."

"Yes sir," replied Collingsworth, thoroughly chastened.

"Don't take it too hard on yourself. Like I said before, you're new to Flag Rank and are still unfamiliar to the ins and outs of the job. I'm impressed by your conduct during the entire deployment of Task Force 12's deployment and the execution of the raid."

"Thank you sir."

"In fact there are others that have taken notice of your actions. Including the President and your Queen. There's talk of you being made a Knight of some order or a Peer, whatever that means," replied O'Neill not knowing much and caring about the British Honors system.

"…" Collingsworth was speechless. Even though the government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland had been dissolved when the Terran Federal Republic was founded, four of the Republic's Federal states were England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland who had significant clout in the new world government. And while those honors were on the state/regional level, they were still very prestigious.

"However like I said before, you are new to Flag Rank. While you have attracted the notice of some very important people. You've also made a lot of enemies, albeit unconsciously."

"Enemies?"

"A month ago, you were a mid ranking but anonymous Captain in charge of a Battlecruiser, while you had a very prestigious position you were nothing special and in the end just another ship Captain who happened to have some of his relatives killed by the Ori," O'Neill could see that Collingsworth bristled at the mention of his family. "Now fast forward to this very moment, you're a two-star _Admiral_ who has just led a daring and ultimately successful attack on the enemy, delivering the Ori a staggering blow that even now, they are struggling to recover from. Am I correct so far?"

"Um… yes sir."

"Good. And now that the Press has gotten a wind of our raid, they're for better or worse comparing it equal to that of the Battle of Midway and are declaring that this is the turning point in the war. Some papers, especially those in the British Isles are near a hairsbreadth away from declaring you the reincarnation of Lord Nelson."

Collingsworth snorted, both amused and appalled at the idiocy that the press displayed.

"Because of this your name is now plastered on both the headlines of the papers as well as the front screens of the television and the internet. You've been thrust right into the limelight and center stage. The second you leave this carrier and step onto the familiar terra firma of Earth, you are going to become an instant celebrity. If you think that you'll get peace and quiet with your family think again. You and your family will be hounded by paparazzi the second you're off private property. In fact it's probably happening right now as we speak."

Collingsworth's facial expression was a mix between fury and concern at the possibility of the press harassing his family.

"And to top it all off, you'll also earn the enmity of some of your fellow officers and other people in high places. Some will be envious of your accomplishments and rise to high rank in such a short time, others who have never met you will consider you a glory hound no matter what you say or do and finally others for some odd reason or another will immediately take a strong dislike to you for no reason at all," he paused letting it all sink in. "This does not mean that the entire world is out to get you. Nor does it mean that the government is completely made up of squabbling bureaucrats that feud with one another over their own private fiefdoms. However just to let you know, the higher you get in the Military Hierarchy, the amount of politics involved increased exponentially. I advise you to closely monitor what you say and do in public and don't get yourself burned by the press. If it sounds even a little bit fishy don't do it. And DO NOT under any circumstances punch or assault a reporter or paparazzi no matter how much they deserve it. Trust me I know for personal experience," O'Neill managed a rueful grin at the memory.

"Thank you sir, but why are you doing this?"

"Well remember when I said you've gained the attention of some very important people, well I happen to be one of them. It would be a shame for an officer with as much promise as yourself to have their career to go down the tubes because of a simple mistake. Believe me it happens all the time."

"Thank you sir. I'll keep that in mind."

"You're welcome, however I have digressed from the original purpose of this meeting. To get back on track, I am here to inform you that Task Force 12 is to be disbanded and its components, Battlecruiser Squadron Two as well as the _Bolivar_ and the two battleships from Battleship Squadron One going to be reabsorbed back into Home Fleet."

Collingsworth nodded, Task Force 12 had been formed on a temporary basis and for only a specific mission, the Terran Contribution for the defense of Dakara. It would have been disbanded eventually. While this meant that the Task Force was home from the front lines it also meant that he was now out of a job or any position in the Military.

"Unfortunately this leaves you, Rear Admiral Rodger Ian Collingsworth without a billet whatsoever."

"Well sir," began Collingsworth hesitant at what he was about to say.

"You probably want the late Admiral Bichet's old job, am I correct? Command of Battlecruiser Squadron Three?"

"Yes sir," Collingsworth decided to upfront and direct.

"Well I am sorry to say that while you are a more than capable commander, at the moment a combat command is not how you can serve the Navy best. Admiral Orlov will assume command instead."

Collingsworth opened his mouth to speak, but remembering the verbal thrashing that he had gotten from the Chairman, he knew that it would be wiser wait until O'Neill was done talking before he made a response and shut his mouth.

"Instead you're being reassigned dirt side to Washington..."

_Well a desk job at the Pentagon wouldn't be that bad_, he mused while it wasn't a combat command, Collingsworth did know that the Pentagon did hold some pretty important positions and while he hated not being in the field, at least he wasn't being exiled to some desolate place in the middle of nowhere.

"….in preparation for a month long world wide tour in which you will be expected to make speeches, kiss babies and whatever the politicians do these days," O'Neill said with a smile, glad that he wasn't the one who had to do it.

Collingsworth gaped and looked as if he'd just been slapped with a wet fish.

"Oh I forgot, you also have a meeting with the President at 0930 local time tomorrow," O'Neill said wishing that he had brought a camera. The look on the Admiral's face was priceless.

**Authors Notes**

First of all I'd like to thank Draconicflare and Drake the Archr for betaing this chapter as well as for his input. Drake

As for the cliffhanger, Collingsworth is going to meet with the President in the next chapter as well as the reasoning behind his reassignment as there is a valid reason behind the Admiral's reassignment

I just started a yahoo group devoted to this fan fic and is home to works by my girlfriend as well, the link to the group is on my profile page. I'd be honored if you joined. Feel free to ask me any questions pertaining to the fic and I will gladly answer them.

Chapter twelve is in the works, with luck I'll have it done before I start school at the end of the month. If not, I'm sorry.

Thank you for the reviews you guys really keep me going, helping me get over writers block and the like. Well I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. And if you have a spare moment, please take a short moment to review.

**Terran Federal Navy (As of Chapter 11)**

**Command Staff**

**Chief of Naval Operations: Admiral Alan Hastings**

**Order of Battle**

**Capital Ships Active…Building…Planned**

**Supercarriers**

_Bolivar_-class 1…2…4 (_Simon Bolivar_, _Elizabeth Tudor_, _Bernardo O'Higgins,_ _George Washington_, _Helmut Kohl_, _Sun__Yat-sen_, _Charles De Gaulle_)

_Churchill_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battleships**

_Montana_-class 3…5…10 (_Montana_, _Yorkshire_, _Alsace-Lorraine_, _Kashmir_, _Sudetenland_, _Prussia_, _California_, _Amazonas_, _Fujian_, _Saxony_, _Manitoba_, _Oaxaca_, _Massachusetts_, _Normandy_, _Caledonia_, _Hibernia_, _Oulu_, _Taiwan_)

_Yamato_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battlecruisers**

_Daedalus_-class 30…0…0

_Pendergast_-class 0…0…40

**Fleet Carriers**

_Hartmann_-class 0…0…30

**Cruisers**

_Marathon_-class 0…0…80

_Thermopylae_-class Stealth (Beliskner refit) 30…0…0

**Destroyers**

_Buenos Aires_-class Guided Missile 0…10…200

_Shanghai_-class Assault 0…0…250

_Sacramento_-class Bombardment 0…0…150

**Frigates**

_Johannesburg_-class Anti Spacefighter 0…0…300

_Canberra_-class Assault 0…0…600

**Auxiliaries**

_Everest_-class Fleet Tender 10…30…70

**Planetary Assault Ships**

Nile-class Landing Platform Dock 0…0…40

Rodger Young-class Landing Ship Tank 0…0…1000

**Spacefighters**

Lockheed Martin F-302 Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 1400…0…0

Lockheed Martin F-302A Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 100…600…1000

Sukhoi SF/A-1 Kestrel General Purpose Strike Fighter 0…0…2600

Boeing SF-2 Cormorant Space Superiority Fighter Currently in Early Stages of Development

EADS SA-3 Pelican Anti-Ship Attack Bomber Currently in Early Stages of Development

**Naval Bases and Installations**

Norfolk, Virginia

Portsmouth, England

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Yokosuka, Japan

Severomorsk, Russia

San Diego, California

One Three-Kilometer in diameter Fleet Base Under Construction in Orbit around Earth at LaGrange Point 3

New Portsmouth Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point One

New Norfolk Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point Two

Prefixes on ships

Ships (Cruisers/Destroyers/Frigates) with an Assault label on them are primarily configured for ship-to-ship combat. They are amongst the heaviest armed and armored within their ship classification and for good reason. They are often placed at the forefront of any formation in support of the heavy battle line (Battlecruisers and Battleships) and will no doubt see combat in any engagement against the foes of the Republic. However they are also deployed with Terran Carrier and Supercarrier Battle groups often providing the much-needed muscle when unwelcome visitors are able to directly attack the carriers.

Those ships bearing the anti-Spacefighter label are armed with only missiles and small caliber railguns. They are completely optimized for the purpose of anti-Spacefighter defense. Equipped with an extremely powerful sensor array, the anti Spacefighter frigates and destroyers are able to detect and engage enemy targets at extreme ranges up to a seventh of a light year away with missiles as well as up close with railgun rounds. They are often used in support of larger ships, allowing the larger ships to be unencumbered by enemy Spacefighters such as the Wraith Dart and the Ori Fury and later the Fable while they engage the Ori Seraphim capital starships. Anti Spacefighter frigates and destroyers also serve a limited if secondary purpose as they can provide point defense against incoming missiles however because of the preference of the enemies of the Republic to use solely energy based weapons this role is rarely fulfilled. However if the need arises, they are more than capable of shooting down enemy missiles aimed at them and their comrades.

Ships with a Bombardment label are extremely specialized ships and are uncommon even within the vast numbers of ships bearing the Terran Naval Ensign (Flag). These ships are armed with a number of large caliber railguns ranging from seven to sixteen depending on the ship classification as well as an above average amount of railgun rounds. These ships are completely devoted to fire support of Marines and Soldiers during planetary invasions and as a result have little or no ship to ship or anti Spacefighter capability. Given their small number and specialized role that they serve, the Navy is extremely loath to loose any of these ships unnecessarily and they are escorted by at least two assault destroyers at all times.

Those vessels bearing the guided missile are similar to those with the assault label. However while their cousins are completely configured for close range combat, guided missile frigates and destroyers sacrifice a substantial amount of close range armament in exchange for a number of vertically launched guided missile silos that allow them to engage opponents at not only the close range but the intermediate range as well. These ships are the second most common sub type in service in the Navy and are a common sight at any Naval Base in Terran held territory or assembled Fleet.

The rarest of all sub types in the Terran Navy are those with the stealth prefix. Unlike the others, which have a dark grey hull, stealth ships are painted in a complete light absorbing color and are a very rare sight to the average Terran line officer and civilian alike. Unlike the rest of their counterparts, the stealth destroyers, cruisers and frigates rarely if never seen in a major fleet engagement and for good reason. For it would be not only a waste of its abilities but a total misuse of Terran credits as well. For each stealth ship is extraordinarily expensive and costs as much if not more as a 'regular' ship of the next level of ships classification as a stealth destroyer would cost at least as much as a 'normal' cruiser. Instead ships with the stealth label are assigned in more secretive operations such as reconnaissance and intelligence gathering, harassment of enemy forces behind the lines, and insertion and extraction of Special Operations Forces such as the Army's Special Assault Squadrons (SAS), the Navy SEALS, and Marine Force Recon Platoons as well as other units and personnel unknown to the general public and most of the Military. To fulfill these purposes, these ships are loaded with the most advanced electronic countermeasures (ECM) gear available as well a cloaking device that renders the ships nearly undetectable to all but the most through and focused scans.


	13. Chapter 12

**Here's Chapter Twelve and I am already six hundred words into Chapter Thirteen**

**Comments please**

**White House, Oval Office**

Collingsworth sat in the waiting room of the Oval Office, doing his utmost not to brush off imaginary lint and dust from his Service Dress Uniform for the tenth time in the last five minutes. After all it wasn't everyday that the average Naval Officer or Admiral for the matter got to meet with their Commander-In-Chief in a private one to one meeting and he felt as comfortable as a fish out of water at the moment.

The comm, phone or whatever the hell they called it these days rang immediately the President's Personal Secretary, picked it up and answered. "Admiral Collingsworth," she said in a pleasant tone. "The President is ready to see you."

Collingsworth took a long breath as he did his best to maintain his composure and calm his steadied nerves. After gathering as much courage as he could muster, Collingsworth stood up and walked through the now open doors that lead into the Oval Office where the President was waiting.

"Admiral Collingsworth it's a pleasure to see you," said President Henry Hayes from his desk, the very same desk that Queen Victoria had commissioned from the remains of the HMS _Resolute_ after she was decommissioned and had been given to then-President Rutherford B. Hayes of the United States, no relation to the current President of the Terran Federal Republic as a gift. "Please take a seat," he gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk.

Collingsworth did as he was told and sat down, now only less than a meter away from the President of Earth, Luna and the rest of the Sol System and all other territories associated with the Terran Federation.

"While this might sound repetitive, the Terran Federal Republic is grateful for what you have done and is in your debt."

"Thank you sir."

"In fact before you arrived, I was just speaking to you Queen on the phone. Apparently you are going to be made a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath and while I don't know exactly what that means I reckon that it's pretty good. Congratulations."

"Thank you sir," Collingsworth managed to say. Hayes like O'Neill was an American and had no idea how important membership in the Order of the Bath was. As an Englishman it was a very high honor and was second in prestige to only the Order of the Garter. (Authors note: the Order of the Thistle is ranked higher than the order of the Bath and below the Order of the Garter but is eligible only to Scotsmen)

"However I digress. As you have probably heard from General O'Neill that you have been reassigned to Washington in preparation of a global publicity tour. I take it that you're surprised by this sudden reassignment?"

"Yes sir."

"While I am not in the habit of explaining myself to my subordinates however due to out of the ordinary nature of my orders, I am going to take an exemption to this for this one time. Let me assure you that your reassignment and withdrawal from the front lines has in no way a question of your competence as a Naval Officer whatsoever."

"Thank you sir," Collingsworth said, somewhat relieved at the fact that the brass did not have it in for him.

"There are two main reasons why I am pulling you from the front lines. The first is that the intelligence community has intercepted an announcement the enemy. Apparently Adria, has it in for you."

Collingsworth's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Adria?"

"Sorry, I forgot you just got elevated to Admiral," Hayes apologized. "The Orici, the leader of the Ori forces in the Milky Way she's sort of a like their Pope, Queen and Messiah all rolled into one."

"Ah."

"Well Adria has put you on the top of her shit list. She's issued a proclamation stating that whoever kills you will immediately elevated to a Prior in the Ori Armies. While this rhetoric isn't new, as she often spouts off her filth on the airwaves or whatever the hell the scientific term for it is at least once a week, she has named you specifically stating quote 'whoever brings me the head of Rodger Collingsworth the infidel responsible for this dastardly attack will be ascend to become a Prior one of the holiest and blessed saints of the Ori.'" Hayes for a slight moment wished that he didn't release the details of behind the raid on the enemy to the press. He sighed, while taking credit for the raid did reveal information about the Terran Federal Republic's newfound tactical capabilities, the boost in morale was more than enough to offset the consequences of the revelation. "Admiral do you know the reason why no member of SG-1 has been assigned to a frontline combat role?"

"No Mr. President."

"The primary reason why Jack O'Neill is the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is not because of his vast experience in fighting extraterrestrial foes of Earth. In fact this was the last job that he wanted. He hates with a passion the bureaucratic duties that come with being the senior military advisor to the President let a lone being on the Join Chiefs. If he had his way he would be leading his troops from the front lines and personally taking on the Ori or any other enemies of Earth in the thickest part of the battle.

"However much to their dislike, the former members of SG-1 have become legends in their own right and symbols of hope to those across the Milky Way. Because of this they are also on Adria's shit list and why I will not let them leave the Sol system almost under any circumstances. If the Ori ever found out that Generals O'Neill and Mitchell or Dr. Jackson were in the front lines, they would devote everything in their power to capture or kill them, sparing no expense whatsoever which if that were to occur would result in a massive loss in morale. And I can guarantee that any attempt to free them would result in disaster, as they'd be locked up more securely than the Crown Jewels. Fortunately or unfortunately for you depending on how you see it, you've been put in the same basket as they albeit to a lesser degree."

Hayes sighed, rubbed his eyes and continued. "Each former member of SG-1 is guarded at all times by a team of Special Operations personnel to discourage any attempts on their lives. You and your family will be getting the same treatment for the time being. So you don't have to worry about some domestic Ori-worshipping fanatic kidnapping your nieces and nephews to get to you." He let out a small laugh, confusing the hell out of the Admiral. "You do know that you inadvertently set off a very nasty turf war between the Military, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Local Police. Each claimed that they had jurisdiction over you and were responsible for your protection," he sighed once more. "I'm sorry for laughing. With all the shit that I have had to deal with, one has to take humor in the smallest things lest they let their work consume them. Some words of advice Admiral, if you want to keep your hair from going grey don't go into politics. The job's a literal bitch."

"It's not a problem. Don't worry Mr. President I won't. If you don't mind, please continue."

"Well the fight between the three services while nasty was also short, when they found out you were coming, they put aside their differences and worked out a compromise," replied Hayes, like most politicians, Hayes was more than capable of telling a half truth. He didn't want to bother Collingsworth with what really happened. As the truth was that the fight between the three government agencies was only just beginning with no end in sight. Had Hayes not threatened to personally intervene, the three bureaucracies would not have been near a solution by the time Collingsworth returned home. "You will be assigned a small detachment of Marines while a joint task force composed of the FBI and the local police will ensure the well being of your family."

"Thank you sir."

"Its not a problem. It's the least I can do for a Hero of the Republic. Which brings me to the second reason behind your recall. As you know, you aren't the only Commander who was fighting the Ori. The Eighth Army under General Wilson is currently engaged against the Ori on Chulak."

"Yes sir," while Collingsworth had been focused primarily on the well being of his Task Force, or former Task Force he reminded himself. He did keep track of the news before he left and during his deployment had tried to get as much information from home as he could.

"As you have probably inferred from the news reports, the campaign on Chulak is not going well. On average, we're loosing tens if not hundreds of troops per day in a bloody battle with no end in sight. We send in troops, tanks and machine guns through the gate and we receive flag draped coffin after flag draped coffin carrying the remains of our young men and women in uniform back. As you can probably infer, morale has begun to drop as casualties mount. The human soul can only take so much bad news and grief before it begins to crack."

Hayes picked up a velvet case on his desk and opened it, revealing a medal attached to a deep blue and white ribbon. "Do you know what this is Admiral?"

Collingsworth nodded. "Yes sir." Everyone in the armed forces and some parts of the press knew what it was. The Golden Lion of Terra was the highest award that the Terran Federal Republic could give to its sons and daughters and could only be earned for actions above and beyond the call of duty in the thick of battle. As far as he knew, the award had not been awarded to anyone. Knowing the requirements to be eligible for the award, most often than not it would be awarded posthumously.

"This medal here belongs to Private First Class Emile Chalmers of Montréal, Quebec for successfully defending his post from an enemy surprise attack, saving the lives of his comrades at the cost of his own," he sighed once more. Collingsworth noticed that he looked much older than he did on television. "The kid was only seventeen and it was only his second day at the front lines. I'll be giving this medal to his parents later this afternoon at the same time trying to explain to his family why their kid is lying in a flag-draped casket when he should be finishing secondary school, chasing girls his own age and looking forward to college. This is the fifth time that I've had to do this and it never gets any better.

"When the news of your raid against the Ori, morale began to shoot up once more. For once the news broadcasts carried good news and people are starting to believe that we can actually make a difference in this galaxy but are capable of winning this war once more.

"That is why I need you Admiral to go on a planet wide tour to keep morale at its current state."

"Mr. President may I ask what exactly what I will be doing?"

"You're going to take a tour of the planet, visit some factories and land based shipyards that are manufacturing tanks, ships, guns, missile and everything else that our war effort demands make a speech or two, kiss some babies, shake hands with the local mayor and the like. Its not that much."

_Maybe to you_, Collingsworth thought. "Mr. President, I am willing to do this however I have little or no experience whatsoever in this area."

"Admiral, did you really think I'd let my best Admiral do this cold turkey? You don't have to worry about making a fool out of your self, you're going to have a pubic relations team help you as you go."

"Thank you sir," replied Collingsworth relieved at the fact that he had help but nervous and dreading the appearance of the help at the same time.

"You're welcome, thank you for being on board."

"Mr. President, you say jump and I like the rest of the Military say how high."

"Thank you Admiral. One more thing before you go. If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. If you can bear doing this tour for a month or two, I'll guarantee star number three on your shoulder boards and a fleet command when the time comes, you have my word as President of the Terran Federal Republic."

"Thank you Mr. President. I'll remember that."

**Ori Battlecruiser **_**Glorious Crusade**_**, Marshal's Private Quarters**

"To the Ori!" High Marshal Tomin toasted mockingly as he picked up his goblet of alcohol and took a large swig, probably the first of many. Already somewhat drunk and disoriented, the majority of the liquid did not enter his mouth but instead splashed onto his shaggy beard that he had grown over the last two weeks, as he had not shaved ever since the…incident.

Two weeks ago, the High Conclave of Priors to had ordered Tomin and the forces under his command to subjugate a world with a higher than average level of technology in the hallowed name of the Ori.

After jumping out of hyperspace with his entire force of 12 _Seraphim_ class battlecruisers along with two legions worth of warriors embarked, Tomin along with an honor guard of his best warriors had beamed down to the planet's capital and demanded their unconditional surrender from their leader.

The leader of the planet had refused stating that death was preferable to surrender and slavery as he called it. As Tomin had warned, his forces began to conquer the planet as he was ordered to do.

Before this Tomin had never seen combat as before he was stuck commanding the large garrison on Hebrida, home to the majority of the shipyards that the faithful possessed in this galaxy or the Milky Way as the local inhabitants especially the Tau'ri called it. The conquest of the planet had been Tomin's first and only combat engagement.

Well to call it an engagement would be a stretch even by his standards or to say former standards, as it was more like a massacre. Tomin had ordered that the planet was to be subject to a lengthy bombardment in order to soften it up before landing his troops. Two minutes into the bombardment a pleading leader, a shell of the defiant man that he had been had sent a message to his Battlecruiser, begging Tomin to stop the bombardment and offering to surrender in exchange. However Tomin naturally had ignored it as the Law of Forfeiture had commanded and continued bombarding.

The Law. Tomin cursed loudly. In the teachings of Origin, every believer had been told of the Law of Forfeiture. In the book of Origin it stated that if a person was given a chance to convert to the true path of Origin and declined, then they, their lives and their property were forfeit, meaning that the faithful could do anything that they wanted to them without fear of retribution by the authorities. However due to the fact that all of the inhabitants in their home galaxy were followers of Origin the law was considered as just another holy but useless tenet in the holy book that had no real application in their home galaxy.

When the 'holy' crusade to liberate this galaxy from their infidel inhabitants, the law had been invoked by the more opportunistic warriors of the crusade who had used this law to justify their ransacking of their newly conquered planets as well as their enslavement of the surviving inhabitants. When word reached back to the Priors and the Orici, instead of censuring those responsible or even condoning the practice they had actually encouraged the practice and urged every warrior in the Crusade to follow their comrades' 'sacred' and 'virtuous' example.

As the High Marshal in charge of the garrison that had occupied Hebrida, Tomin had heard of the actions done by his fellow warriors and had thought little of it at the time as he was busy ensuring that the dammed Tau'ri and their allies didn't cause too much havoc on the numerous yards in orbit and on the planetary surface that were vital to the Ori war effort. After all, he had thought any suffering on the account of unbelievers was of no concern to him.

When the planetary bombardment had ceased, with every major city on the planet in ruins Tomin had then ordered his troops to land on the capital with the intention of restoring order and exerting his authority as the planet was now under the control of the Ori. However everything but order happened. As soon as his troops landed, they lost all semblance of discipline as warriors. Choosing to begin a long rampage of death, and destruction. Everything left that was worth something had been looted in the name of the Ori, the warriors 'liberating' it from their former owners often with lethal force. Every man or in this case male who remotely resembled someone of age was arbitrarily executed, their sister's mothers and or wives taken to be slaves and concubines of their new masters.

_Is this what being a warrior of the Ori is all about? _He thought. Ever since he was a boy, he had dreamed of becoming a warrior fighting for the noble cause of spreading the word of Origin across the stars. While he knew that due to his limp he had no chance of doing so, a small part of him had hoped that one day he too could join in on the crusade. When the news of wayward humans, not knowing about Origin in another galaxy had spread like a wild fire, every able-bodied male on Ver Isca had opted to join up in order to prove himself for the name of Origin and worthy of Ascension when the time came, leaving Tomin the only young man in the village unable to take up arms.

When the Prior had miraculously healed Tomin's leg, Tomin was able to finally fulfill his greatest dream and had joined the mighty Army of the Faithful. If he had been given the task of being the lowliest foot soldier then he would have been content for the rest of his days. But due to his near holy status as the stepfather of the Orici he had been given the rank of High Marshal and put in charge of several legions and ships.

Tomin sighed once more. If he had been able to do it all over again, he would have gladly kept his limp and never become a warrior if it meant that he would never have the nightmares that prevented him from sleeping every night. Tomin thought of his estranged wife Vala and how she had warned him about what he was doing. He could still see the look in her eyes as she pleaded with him to turn his beliefs from Origin and come with her to the Tau'ri. He had been a fool to not heed her words. He wondered where she was at the moment. _Probably with that man Jackson_ he thought to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew that Jackson was the better man and that his wife truly loved him.

"My Lord High Marshal," the ship's computer intoned suddenly, breaking his chain of thought.

"Yes?" he responded, grateful for the distraction.

"Lord Marshal Seskrin wishes to speak with you," the computer said, referring to his second in command.

"Please inform him that I will be ready to receive him in a short while," he stated. While he was not happy with the current events, he still had to act like a Marshal whether he liked it or not and he began to clean up his personal quarters and changed form his standard everyday tunic to his ornate and resplendent battle armor that showed his rank as a High Marshal which he had not worn ever since he had first arrived at the planet.

A few minutes later, when he was fully dressed and cleaned, and his quarters mostly cleaned the door to his quarters chimed, informing him that Seskrin was at his doorstep.

"Enter," Tomin ordered.

The doors to his quarters opened to reveal a man dressed similarly to his own attire, although the armor he wore was slightly less ornate as he was Tomin's subordinate as he was only a Lord Marshal. "My Lord," he said, saluting in the Ori fashion making a fist in his right hand and placing it over his left pectoral and bowing.

"Rise," Tomin commanded. Behind him the doors to his quarters closed once again to give the two men privacy from any prying ears or watchful eyes. "What do you have to report?"

"My Lord Marshal," the Marshal's face was smug. "I have great news."

_Other than the fact that you have just become amazingly rich by robbing several mansions or is because you have just become the master of a large harem made up of the wives and daughters of the men that you killed?_ Tomin thought bitterly, he wanted nothing more to throttle the man. However much the disappointment of his baser instincts, Tomin decided to keep his composure as assaulting his subordinate would be looked down upon stepfather of the Orici or not and asked, "What is this great news, pray tell?"

"The war has just been won. I have just received word from the High Conclave that numerous reinforcements from home are due to arrive shortly."

"Why wasn't I notified of this?" Tomin asked. Protocol stated that he, as the most senior Marshal would be the first to receive messages and release them to his subordinates at his discretion. The fact that Seskrin had received the messages instead of himself meant that something was up. He surreptitiously prepared himself for any possible conflict, secretly activating his wrist mounted stunner that was a part of his armor. Just because he was a Marshal didn't mean that his armor didn't need to be functional after all he was a still a warrior albeit a high ranking one.

"That is the other thing that I wished to tell you. Due to your actions during the conquest of this planet in the name of our Gods the hallowed Ori themselves, the Council has declared that you are to be relieved of command immediately and are to be transferred to a less… taxing post and have appointed me in charge in your stead."

_So that's why Seskrin was barely concealing his glee _Tomin realized. "Does anyone else know of this?"

"No _Tomin_," his former subordinate said emphasizing the fact that Tomin no longer had a place in this force of warriors. "I felt that it would be best if you were the first to know."

"Good," Tomin said before brining up his right arm and firing several shots into the other man's chest.

The look on Seskrin's face was of pure shock before he fell unceremoniously to the ground as dead as the men that he had murdered. At the moment of his greatest triumph, he had to die at the hands of his comrade. He didn't even have the chance to enjoy the fruits of his newly gained riches that meant nothing to him now.

_What have I done? _Tomin thought, distressed at his actions. It happened so fast that he didn't even know what he had done until Seskrin's body had hit the floor. Killing a fellow Marshal let alone a warrior was heresy, a crime that would result in a slow and painful death, which would take place _after_ he was publicly mocked and ridiculed. However it was nothing compared to the fate of damnation that waited for him in the afterlife. Tomin sighed loudly, he had chosen his actions and although it had been spontaneous there was nothing that he could do to reverse what happened.

"My Lord," intoned the ship's computer. "Internal sensors have detected weapons fire in your personal quarters. A force of warriors is currently on their way and will arrive shortly."

Tomin cursed mentally. As soon as the warriors got here, they would put two and two together and would know what had happened. That coupled with the internal recordings by the ship's computer would confirm his guilt, sending him to meet his fate in the afterlife quicker than he expected. He had to think of something fast. "Computer," he said after half a minutes worth of thought.

"Yes, my lord?"

"I have reason to believe that one of the surviving infidels have killed on of our warriors, taking their armor as a disguise and have smuggled a virus aboard our ship. I want you to depressurize every single compartment in this ship except for my own_." If I can kill one warrior of the Ori, I can kill a whole ship's worth. After all what else could the Ori do to me, for I already damned for all eternity. Damn me twice?_

"As you wish," the computer said emotionlessly. Tomin was glad for once that he was talking to a machine instead of a live being as a live being would have questioned his orders and hesitated to carry them out for killing an entire crew due to a virus in the air systems even a lethal one was no small thing. "Venting all circulated atmosphere except for that in your compartment into space."

"Good," Tomin breathed, trying to steady his already frayed nerves.

"My Lord," the computer intoned, making Tomin jump out of fright, hitting the ceiling of his quarters like a young child who had been caught fibbing or some other trivial offense.

"What is it?" Tomin asked, rubbing his sore head.

"Fleet Master Fennit wishes to speak with you."

"Put him on audio only."

"As you wish."

"My Lord High Marshal what's going on? Sensors just detected that your ship is no longer using life support and is venting all of its air," stated the warrior in charge of the maintenance and the day-to-day operations of Tomin's battlecruisers. While Tomin was in overall command, in any space battle the Ship Masters of his Fleet would answer to Fennit.

"One of the infidels managed to sneak aboard my ship and released a highly contagious and lethal virus, immediately killing several of my men closest to the prisoner. Naturally I ordered that quarantine measures to be enacted immediately," Tomin managed to reply without stuttering. He was grateful that he was only using audio communications for if Fennit were to see his face; he would immediately be able to see through Tomin's ruse.

"My Lord, do you think…" Fennit replied.

"Yes I have reason to believe that there are multiple enemy saboteurs in the fleet. Effective immediately every ship in this fleet is now under quarantine. I want every ship fifty million leagues (one league, three miles) from one another. All unnecessary systems including transporters, weapons, sensors, communications and hyperdrives are to be shut down immediately. The fleet is to stay in this condition until I give the command to life the quarantine."

"Yes my Lord," the Fleet Master said before cutting the communications channel.

Tomin changed out of his armor and into a vacuum suit at the same time trying not to fidget when he did so. Later on in his life, he would swear that this would be his most frightening moment. After what seemed to be an eternity that in real time was probably less than five minutes, after Tomin gathered up his courage. "Computer," he asked.

"Yes my Lord?"

"How many life signs are there on this ship?"

"Besides your self none sir the rest of the crew are dead."

"Is the fleet in their assigned positions?"

"Yes my Lord."

"And what of artificial gravity on the rest of the ship?"

"Gravity has been active for the duration of the quarantine."

"Good," Tomin replied. "Open the doors to my quarters."

"My lord, I must warn you that currently there is no oxygen on the rest of the ship."

"I understand. Open the doors," he insisted.

"As you command."

_While I may be damned for all eternity, at least I can face my fate with a clear conscience_ Tomin thought to himself as he exited his quarters and began his trek to the bridge where he would start the next phase of his hastily assembled plan.

**Around Jupiter, TFNS **_**Karel Doorman**_**, BC-18**

Captain Yang sat in his command chair brooding as he stood his watch. _My crew and I are so close to home yet at the same time so far away_, he thought to himself. While the _Doorman_ and the rest of Battlecruiser Squadron Three were just less than ten minutes away from home via hyperdrive, it was still around six hundred _million_ kilometers away from Earth or Terra as it was now officially called in official documents.

Whereas the units of Task Force 12 had been deployed outside the system supporting the Republic's allies, the rest of the Navy with the exception of the _Daedalus_ that was still at Atlantis was still stationed in Sol, patrolling the system and ensuring that the Ori didn't launch a sneak attack on any of the space borne facilities that were essential to the war effort. Battlecruiser Squadron Three had been deployed to Jupiter to patrol the surrounding area and protect the massive hydrogen extractors and refineries used in a joint venture between the former Oil Companies and the Government.

When the Stargate program and the resulting technologies coming from it were released, it was apparent to the government that there were going to be a lot of people not happy with the new technologies that the Stargate had brought with it. One of the largest sources of opposition to change would be oil industry. After all when there is a major industry tied to every sector of the economy worth an exorbitant amount of money that just became obsolete there were bound to be a lot of unhappy campers.

However rather than antagonize the Oil Companies and their out of date product, like many members of the government wanted to do, Hayes opted to take a different route. Instead Hayes decided to do the opposite and invited the CEOs of the largest Oil Companies to the White House to discuss the issue face to face. During the meeting Hayes told the assembled Executives that Oil was obsolete, fated to go the way of the horse and buggy and that there was little or nothing that they could do about it. However he stated that the there were many new sources of energy that needed to be exploited which were both clean, renewable and most of all practical and that the Republic needed their help doing so. The Oil Companies knowing that their product was now obsolete and their purpose rapidly becoming nil decided to take the President's offer.

On Jupiter a compromise was made, the Terran Government would own the extractors and the refineries and sell the hydrogen at a standardized price, the price controls would be lifted after the war ended but the Companies would operate them and ship them back to Sol via large mega freighters that were owned and operated by the companies. Thus, giving the Military the reason to put Battlecruiser Squadron 3 as well as other Space Force and Navy units in the surrounding area.

Yang sighed once more; the patrols while necessary were both boring and monotonous. When Yang was a Captain in the People's Liberation Army Navy, the seagoing branch of the PLA in command of a Type 52B Destroyer he was able to wake up every morning from his bunk and stare at a different sky with cloud patterns that would never be the same as well as a different tone each day for the sky. It was not so in the heavens as there was one and only one scene one could really see during deep space patrol which as the deep blackness of space. Yang swore that if he did not have a reference point to base how far he had traveled, he would have believed the ship was going nowhere as the scenery never changed. This coupled with the six hours on, six hours off watch schedule made it so that Yang and the rest of the crew itching for one of two things, the first was their one-week leave coming up at the end of the month and the second something out of the ordinary to happen. Fortunately or unfortunately for Yang and his crew this was going to happen shortly.

"Sir," reported his combat systems officer.

"Yes?" asked Yang, tiredly. It was after all 0350 ships time and his watch was going to be over in ten minutes. The last thing he wanted was for something to keep him form going back to his bunk to sleep. If it were a minor problem he'd let his executive officer handle it after all that's what they were for right?

"My readouts are detecting a hyperspace opening about five hundred thousand kilometers from our position at a bearing of thirty degrees starboard."

"What did you just say Lieutenant?" asked Yang, the weariness beginning to wear off, which was quickly being replaced by adrenalin.

"We've detected a hyperspace window near our position," the combat systems officer repeated herself.

Yang's expression suddenly became pensive and he turned to his communications officer. "Comm, get me an uplink to Admiral Griffin on board the _Hood_."

"Aye aye sir," he responded, his hands working quickly at his console.

Yang keyed a button on his command chair, allowing him to speak to the entire crew at once. "Attention, this is the Captain speaking. I am sounding general quarters. All personnel are to report to their duty station immediately. This is **NOT** a drill. I repeat this is not a drill."

"Sir, uplink established."

"Put it on the front screen."

The viewscreen in front of Yang and the rest of the crew inside the CIC changed from showing tactical readouts to the face of Rear Admiral Charles Griffin, Battlecruiser Squadron Three's Commanding Officer and the senior officer in the surrounding area. "What is it Captain?" asked Griffin straight to the point.

"Sir we've detected a hyperspace window close to our position."

"Is it friendly or hostile."

"Sir the window is open but the ship hasn't come through."

Griffin scratched his chin, a sign that Yang knew that he was thinking. "Captain I want you and the _Doorman_ to investigate. If its friendly that's good but if its hostile engage it immediately in order to buy time for reinforcements to arrive. The rest of the squadron along with more reinforcements will arrive within five minutes."

"Aye aye sir," Yang replied before cutting off the uplink.

"You heard the Admiral, set a course to the hyperspace window," Yang ordered his helmsman.

"As you wish sir."

"Sir! The ship has fully come out of hyperspace and we've identified it, it's an Ori _Seraphim_ class Battlecruiser."

Yang's blood ran cold at the statement. While an Ori ship of the line could be taken out with a Task Force of multiple ships, his own Battlecruiser would not be able to take it out on its own and could only serve to delay the other ship hopefully until the rest of the squadron arrived. "Weps?" he asked.

"Yes sir?"

"What's the status of your weapons?"

"Missiles are hot and ready to go same as railguns but given the distance of the enemy, I would not recommend using them."

"Noted. Do you have a firing solution?"

"Sir, we're working on that. It should be done any second now," the Lieutenant Commander in charge of the _Doorman_'s weapons responded. "Done sir."

"I want two salvos of twenty five missiles each fired at the enemy ship fired one minute apart."

"Yes sir, first barrage has been launched at the enemy," reported the weapons officer. "I'm prepping the second barrage now."

"Sir," reported the sensor officer.

"What is it?' Yang asked, curious.

"The enemy ship has detected us and is moving towards our position. Its odd though."

"What is odd about that?" Yang asked, trying to keep himself from chewing his sensor officer out for stating the obvious.

"Sir, we're well within the engagement envelope of their main weapon and they haven't fired a single shot. Sir logic dictates that if the Ori wanted to launch a raid on the installations on Jupiter they'd want to eliminate us as soon as possible."

"First salvo has impacted the enemy ship. Their shields are still holding. Launch of the second salvo will commence in thirty seconds."

"Sir! We're getting a comm signal from the Ori ship."

"Put it on audio only," Yang ordered. His instinct screaming at him not to do what he was doing.

"Tau'ri ship this is Tomin, formerly High Marshal Tomin of the Ori. I seek asylum and surrender this ship to you and your government."

"Hold fire," Yang ordered quickly. "However keep a weapons lock on the enemy ship."

"Sir?" asked the weapons officer as if he were slapped.

"You heard me."

"Sir with all due respect that's an Ori follower out there. We can't trust him or her or whatever the hell these aliens are."

"Your objections will be noted in the log _Commander_."

"What's the ETA for the rest of the squadron?"

"Two minutes sir."

Yang sat in his chair thinking. If this was legit, than Earth just got its hands on an Ori Battlecruiser but if it wasn't which is probably was Yang needed to stall the enemy ship until the rest of the squadron arrived.

**War Room, HOMECOM Headquarters, Luna**

"What the hell is going on?" asked a very irate General Landry, who was not happy at all to be roused out of bed in the middle of the night, well night was relative since he was stationed on Luna and was running off of Greenwich mean time like every other space borne ship, station or installation.

Rather than place the headquarters of Home Command the largest and most important Unified Combatant Command on Earth, the Terran Government at the urging of the Military decided to place its Headquarters on the Moon or as it was officially called, Luna. This was done so that if enemy forces whether they be Ori or not, were able to overrun Earth's defenses Home Command would not be destroyed, allowing coordination of surving Terran and allied forces. An added benefit was that the with HOMECOM far away from any civilian population meaning that if HOMECOM Headquarters were attacked, civilian casualties would be little or none. However the true motive was to keep the 'God damn hippies as far away from the area as possible' as O'Neill had coined it.

As CINC-HOME he was in charge of all combat forces in the Solar System or the Sol System as it was officially called these days and responsible for its defense. To say that it was a taxing job was an understatement. Not only was he in charge of nearly every installation from the sun to the farthest edges of the Solar system. And to make things even worse Landry had to use the transporter on a regular basis to Washington, Geneva or Johannesburg to meet with the President or members from the Senate or House respectively for any hearings that he was subpoenaed depending on what the schedule was. The job was a bitch. _Which is why Jack O'Neill recommended _me_ to take it, bastard. It is said that misery loves company and if this what running HOMECOM is like, then I have to shudder at how Hammond and O'Neill have it running the Ministry of Defense and the Joint Chiefs in that order_ Landry thought to himself darkly.

"Sir," responded Brigadier General Cameron Mitchell, the chief watch officer. "We have a situation."

"What kind of situation?" asked Landry, not happy about how this was going.

"Sir a couple of minutes ago, an Ori Battlecruiser dropped out of hyperspace near Jupiter and was immediately detected by our forces patrolling the area."

"What are our losses so far?" Landry quickly asked, concerned.

"None sir, none whatsoever."

"Say that again," Landry commanded as if he had misheard Mitchell's statement.

"None sir."

"What's going on then?"

"Immediately after exiting hyperspace, the Ori Battlecruiser _Glorious Crusade_ as it has been claimed to be its name was engaged by the _Doorman_ under the command of Captain Yang when the _Doorman_ intercepted a transmission from the _Glorious Crusade_ with a 'High Marshal' Tomin stating that he was surrendering the ship and was asking for asylum. Right now Admiral Griffin's asking for orders."

"What do you think?" asked Landry, while Mitchell was only a watch officer, he was a former member of SG-1 and unlike most of the military was an expert on the Ori. Landry trusted the younger man's judgment.

"I don't know. If this is the Tomin that I am thinking about this might be genuine," stated Mitchell deep in thought.

"Why do you say that?"

"When Vala was stuck in the Ori Home Galaxy she married a local man named Tomin. Ask him where he's from. If he replies that he is from Ver Isca then we can know for sure that he's the one that I'm talking about."

"Okay." Landry turned to his component commanders, who like Landry were not too happy to get out of bed at this hour. "What assets do we have in the local area?"

"As of right now, I have Battlecruiser Squadron Three as well as Corvette Squadron One and Naval Station Zeus in the area. Although to call Naval Station Zeus operational and Corvette Squadron One combat effective would be a major stretch on both counts," responded Admiral Robert Martin who held the double position of COMNAVHOME (Commander Naval Forces Home) and the commanding Admiral of the Terran Navy's First (and as of now only) Fleet.

Landry nodded. Naval Station Zeus, which would serve as the homeport for all Military Forces, not just those under the command of the Navy was at the moment, was at the moment a collection of spare parts and panels as construction was officially slated to begin next week and the contractors were just beginning to bring the parts for the massive installation which would take an entire year to build.

And the corvettes, to say that they were capable for a full on engagement with the enemy would be laughable. Immediately after the First Battle of Sol the Military knew that it needed to have a space capable Navy as soon as possible. With the next batch of BC-304s not due for completion until two years from now, the Navy needed an interim solution to bridge the gap and they needed it yesterday. The Navy then ordered that a small number of submarines particularly all of the boats from the _Seawolf_, _Virginia_, and the Trafalgar class nuclear attack submarines as well as four of the _Ohio_ class Ballistic Missile Submarines were to be immediately refitted with advanced technology and would be used as corvettes.

The refit of the former submarines took four months due to Asgard and Tok'ra assistance and the fact that the newly formed government at the time stated that if the refit was not done in time, then General Dynamics and BAE who were in charge of the refit and the shipyards that it owned would be at an extreme disadvantage for any government contract for the entire war's duration and longer. The result was seventeen hastily refitted ships that could barely do the task that they were assigned to do.

Their weapons and armament had been completely redesigned. The torpedo tubes had been permanently removed and in their place half their numbers worth of railgun launchers had been installed in their place. The vertical launch systems of the former submarines had been remodeled to launch hastily modified BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missiles that were the predecessor to the BSGM-109 Space Tomahawk and the SSM-1 which was in development in a joint venture between RAFAEL and Denel. However the _Trafalgar_ class submarines did not originally have a vertical launch system like their fellow sisters and as a result were completely reliant on their railguns making them unable to engage the enemy at anything but a short distance.

Structurally the ship was nearly the same as it was before the refit. However the entire rear sections of each corvette had been modified, the entire propulsion system had been taken out and a Tok'ra slower than light drive and been installed as well as a small hyperdrive that was only good for small jumps. To say that they were the most ugly and maintenance intensive ships in space would be an understatement. As soon as the first of the planned frigates and destroyers were commissioned into the Navy and plans for a real corvette underway the current corvettes would be decommissioned and used as target practice or scrapped.

"I've got the 19th Marine Regiment stationed at the refineries as well as the Marine Detachments on the ships of Battlecruiser Three," replied General Mark Wright the commander of the Marine Component of HOMECOM.

"SEAL Team Five is also deployed in the area," General Moshe Edelstein, COMSOCHOME.

"All right then, this is what we'll do," Landry said, addressing his subordinates with a plan already forming in his mind.

**Ori Battlecruiser **_**Glorious Crusade**_

Tomin sat in his command chair waiting for the Tau'ri or Terrans to respond to his message. It appeared that his arrival had caused forces in the entire area to go to high alert. Currently seven of their main type of warships as well as six of some smaller type that he had never seen before and their respective fighter craft were surrounding his position. While Tomin knew the that Glorious Crusade could probably survive any bombardment from one of the enemy warships the shields could not hold from more than three of them.

"High Marshal Tomin of Ori Battlecruiser _Glorious Crusade_, this is Rear Admiral Charles Griffin of the Terran Federal Navy Drop your shields immediately or be destroyed. Do you understand?"

"Rear Admiral Charles Griffin, I understand with your request and I will comply," Tomin responded. "Computer," he instructed. "Drop the shields."

"As you wish my Lord."

"Rear Admiral Charles Griffin I have-"

Suddenly Tomin saw a dozen humans wearing what appeared to be some sort of bulky armor and carrying weapons teleport onto the bridge.

"Are you High Marshal Tomin?" asked one of them, who Tomin believed to be the leader of the group.

"Yes I am."

"Good." The warrior then suddenly and quickly drew what appeared to be a weapon carved in the form of a snake from his hip and fired it. Causing Tomin to fall to the floor unconscious.

"Admiral we got him," reported Lieutenant Thomas Hunt, Commander of Second Platoon, SEAL Team Five.

"Excellent Lieutenant. Hold the bridge and wait for further instructions. The Marines will secure the rest of the ship."

"Rodger that."

**Authors Notes**

Well here is chapter twelve the largest chapter yet.

I hope you like it and please join the yahoo group on my profile page as well as review.

Thanks to Drake the Archr and Draconicflare for their help.

Due to constraints via real life such as college starting up soon as well as getting a job, updates will probably slow to once every month or every two months until winter break. As much fun as it is to write, school comes first and work second. However I will do my best to crank out five hundred to one thousand words. However don't hesitate to ask questions, as I will answer any questions that you might have within two days or so of your original question.

Here's the current OOB for the Army and the Navy

**Terran Federal Navy**

**Command Staff**

**Chief of Naval Operations: Admiral Alan Hastings**

**Order of Battle**

**Capital Ships Active…Building…Planned**

**Supercarriers**

_Bolivar_-class 1…2…4 (_Simon Bolivar_, _Elizabeth Tudor_, _Bernardo O'Higgins,_ _George Washington_, _Helmut Kohl_, _Sun_ _Yat-sen_, _Charles De Gaulle_)

_Churchill_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battleships**

_Montana_-class 3…5…10 (_Montana_, _Yorkshire_, _Alsace-Lorraine_, _Kashmir_, _Sudetenland_, _Prussia_, _California_, _Amazonas_, _Fujian_, _Saxony_, _Manitoba_, _Oaxaca_, _Massachusetts_, _Normandy_, _Caledonia_, _Hibernia_, _Oulu_, _Taiwan_)

_Yamato_-class Classified to the general public and currently in development by the Navy

**Battlecruisers**

_Daedalus_-class 30…0…0

_Pendergast_-class 0…0…40

**Fleet Carriers**

_Hartmann_-class 0…0…30

**Cruisers**

_Marathon_-class 0…0…80

_Thermopylae_-class Stealth (Beliskner refit) 30…0…0

**Destroyers**

_Buenos Aires_-class Guided Missile 0…10…200

_Shanghai_-class Assault 0…0…250

_Sacramento_-class Bombardment 0…0…150

**Frigates**

_Johannesburg_-class Anti Spacefighter 0…0…300

_Canberra_-class Assault 0…0…600

**Corvettes**

_Seawolf_-class 3…0…0 (_Seawolf_, _Connecticut_, _Jimmy Carter_) Converted from the _Seawolf_-class Nuclear Attack Submarine

_Virginia_-class 3…0…0 (_Virginia_, _Texas_, _Hawaii_) Converted from the _Virginia_-class Nuclear Attack Submarine

_Trafalgar_-class 7…0…0 (_Trafalgar_, _Turbulent_, _Tireless_, _Torbay_, _Trenchant_, _Talent_, _Triumph_) Converted from the _Trafalgar_-class Nuclear Attack Submarine

_Ohio_-class 4…0…0 (_Ohio_, _Michigan_, _Florida_, _Georgia_) Converted from the _Ohio_-class Nuclear Ballistic Missile Submarine

**Auxiliaries**

_Everest_-class Fleet Tender 10…30…70

**Planetary Assault Ships**

Nile-class Landing Platform Dock 0…0…40

Rodger Young-class Landing Ship Tank 0…0…1000

**Spacefighters**

Lockheed Martin F-302 Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 1400…0…0

Lockheed Martin F-302A Mongoose General Purpose Strike Fighter 100…600…1000

Sukhoi SF/A-1 Kestrel General Purpose Strike Fighter 0…0…2600

Boeing SF-2 Cormorant Space Superiority Fighter Currently in Early Stages of Development

EADS SA-3 Pelican Anti-Ship Attack Bomber Currently in Early Stages of Development

**Naval Special Warfare**

**CLASSIFIED (Sorry but that would be telling, I'll make an OOB for SOCOM soon)**

**Naval Bases and Installations**

Bath Iron Works, Maine

Newport News, Virginia

Norfolk, Virginia

Portsmouth, England

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Yokosuka, Japan

Severomorsk, Russia

San Diego, California

One Three-Kilometer in diameter Fleet Base Under Construction in Orbit around Earth at LaGrange Point 3

New Portsmouth Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point One

New Norfolk Naval Construction Facility at LaGrange Point Two

Authors Notes

First of all I'd like to thank Draconicflare for betaing this chapter as well as Drake the Archr for his input

Prefixes on ships

Ships (Cruisers/Destroyers/Frigates) with an Assault label on them are primarily configured for ship-to-ship combat. They are amongst the heaviest armed and armored within their ship classification and for good reason. They are often placed at the forefront of any formation in support of the heavy battle line (Battlecruisers and Battleships) and will no doubt see combat in any engagement against the foes of the Republic. However they are also deployed with Terran Carrier and Supercarrier Battle groups often providing the much-needed muscle when unwelcome visitors are able to directly attack the carriers.

Those ships bearing the anti-Spacefighter label are armed with only missiles and small caliber railguns. They are completely optimized for the purpose of anti-Spacefighter defense. Equipped with an extremely powerful sensor array, the anti Spacefighter frigates and destroyers are able to detect and engage enemy targets at extreme ranges up to a seventh of a light year away with missiles as well as up close with railgun rounds. They are often used in support of larger ships, allowing the larger ships to be unencumbered by enemy Spacefighters such as the Wraith Dart and the Ori Fury and later the Fable while they engage the Ori Seraphim capital starships. Anti Spacefighter frigates and destroyers also serve a limited if secondary purpose as they can provide point defense against incoming missiles however because of the preference of the enemies of the Republic to use solely energy based weapons this role is rarely fulfilled. However if the need arises, they are more than capable of shooting down enemy missiles aimed at them and their comrades.

Ships with a Bombardment label are extremely specialized ships and are uncommon even within the vast numbers of ships bearing the Terran Naval Ensign (Flag). These ships are armed with a number of large caliber railguns ranging from seven to sixteen depending on the ship classification as well as an above average amount of railgun rounds. These ships are completely devoted to fire support of Marines and Soldiers during planetary invasions and as a result have little or no ship to ship or anti Spacefighter capability. Given their small number and specialized role that they serve, the Navy is extremely loath to loose any of these ships unnecessarily and they are escorted by at least two assault destroyers at all times.

Those vessels bearing the guided missile are similar to those with the assault label. However while their cousins are completely configured for close range combat, guided missile frigates and destroyers sacrifice a substantial amount of close range armament in exchange for a number of vertically launched guided missile silos that allow them to engage opponents at not only the close range but the intermediate range as well. These ships are the second most common sub type in service in the Navy and are a common sight at any Naval Base in Terran held territory or assembled Fleet.

The most rare of all sub types in the Terran Navy are those with the stealth prefix. Unlike the others, which have a dark grey hull, stealth ships are painted in a complete light absorbing color and are a very rare sight to the average Terran line officer and civilian alike. Unlike the rest of their counterparts, the stealth destroyers, cruisers and frigates rarely if never seen in a major fleet engagement and for good reason. For it would be not only a waste of its abilities but a total misuse of Terran credits as well. For each stealth ship is extraordinarily expensive and costs as much if not more as a 'regular' ship of the next level of ships classification as a stealth destroyer would cost at least as much as a 'normal' cruiser. Instead ships with the stealth label are assigned in more secretive operations such as reconnaissance and intelligence gathering, harassment of enemy forces behind the lines, and insertion and extraction of Special Operations Forces such as the Army's Special Assault Squadrons (SAS), the Navy SEALS, and Marine Force Recon Platoons as well as other units and personnel unknown to the general public and most of the Military. To fulfill these purposes, these ships are loaded with the most advanced electronic countermeasures (ECM) gear available as well a cloaking device that renders the ships nearly undetectable to all but the most through and focused scans.

**Terran Federal Army**

**Command Staff**

**Chief of Staff of the Army: General Lee Xiao San**

**Order of Battle**

**Active…Raising…Planned**

**Divisions**

Airborne 5…20…80

Armored Divisions 15…60…90

Light Infantry 10…90…120

Mechanized Infantry 30…150…200

**Special Operations Groups**

**  
CLASSIFIED**

**Equipment**

**Small Arms**

**Pistols**

Heckler and Koch USP (Standard Issue)

Beretta 92FS (M9) (Limited Use)

Browning Hi-Power (Limited Use)

**Submachine Guns**

Heckler and Koch UMP9 and UMP 45 (Limited use by select units)

Heckler and Koch MP5 (In use but being phased out by the MP7)

Heckler and Koch MP7 (Standard Issue)

FN Herstal P90 (Limited use by Select units)

**Assault Rifles and Carbines**

Colt M16A4 and M16A2 (Limited use, being phased out by the M4A2)

Colt M4 and M4A1 (Limited use, being phased out by the M4AA2)

Heckler and Koch G36 and derivatives (Limited use by select units)

Heckler and Koch M4A2 (aka HK416) (Standard issue being phased in)

**Sniper Rifles**

(Due to the high demand for sniper rifles and their specialized needs as well as their elite nature, Terran Army snipers use whatever they wish to use and what the Army can get its hands on. However efforts are being made to select a standard issue sniper rifle)

Knight's Armament Company M110 SASS

Heckler and Koch MSG90

Accuracy International Artic Warfare

M24 Sniper Weapon System

Barrett M107 Long Range Sniper Rifle (fires .50 BMG rounds)

**Shotguns**

Benelli M1014

Daewoo USAS-12

Mossberg 500 and 590

Remington 870

**Squad Automatic Weapons**

Singapore Technologies Kinetics Ultimax 100 (Being used to supplement the M249 due to large demand)

**Grenade Launchers**

Colt M203 under barrel grenade launcher (Being phased out by the M320)

Heckler and Koch M320 under barrel grenade launcher (standard issue)

Milkor M32 MGL (Being phased in and tested by select units)

**Crew Served Weapons**

Anti Tank Missiles

BGM-71 TOW

FIM-92 Stinger

FGM-148 Javelin

**Machine Guns**

M2 .50 cal Heavy Machine Gun (Slowly being phased out by the M312)

M312 .50 cal Heavy Machine Gun (Standard Issue)

FN Herstal M240

FN Herstal M249 (Standard Issue)

**Grenade Launchers**

MK19 (Standard Issue)

M307 (In testing phases)

**Armored Vehicles**

**Main Battle Tanks**

BAE Challenger 2 (currently being phased out by the MBT-1 Wittmann)

General Dynamics M1A3 (currently being phased out by the MBT-1 Wittmann)

GIAT Leclerc (currently being phased out by the MBT-1 Wittmann)

Krauss-Maffei MBT-1 Wittmann (standard issue, currently being phased in)

**Tank Destroyers**

General Dynamics Stryker Mobile Gun System (Standard issue)

Iveco Centauro (In use to supplement the demand for more Tank Destroyers)

**Armored Personnel Carriers and Infantry Fighting Vehicles**

BAE M2/3 Bradley (standard issue IFV)

General Dynamics Stryker (standard issue APC)

Krauss-Maffei Marder (limited use)

M113 and variants (widespread use)

Kraus-Maffei IFV-1 Smith (in testing phases)

Artec APC-1 Suvorov (in testing phases)

**Artillery**

M109 Self-propelled howitzer (in widespread use)

M270 MRLS

M777 Howitzer (standard issue)

PzH-2000 Self-propelled howitzer (standard issue)

HMARS

BAE SpH-1 Franks

**Other**

AM General HUMVEE (standard issue)

Force Protection Cheetah (in testing phases)


	14. Chapter 13

**White House**

"General O'Neill what can you tell us about the recent developments about…the incident?" asked Hayes, speaking for himself and the entire the entire Security Council.

"Do you want me to start from the beginning or what we've learned ever since we boarded the ship?" asked O'Neill, not knowing how much the President knew at the time.

"From the beginning please," stated Hayes. He had been briefed on the beginnings last night but he wanted to make sure that he had his facts straight as the briefing took place at two in the morning while he was still asleep. In addition, other members of the Security Council needed to be filled in as well.

"At around 0130 our time our forces patrolling near our orbital installations around Jupiter detected a subspace rift forming near one of our ships."

"And what came out of the rift?" asked the Foreign Minister.

"An Ori _Seraphim_-class battlecruiser," replied O'Neill.

"What did you say?" exclaimed a member of the Security Council.

"An Ori ship of the line," O'Neill repeated.

"Before you go on, let the Chairman finish his explanation before you ask any questions," Hammond stated keeping the meeting on track before it lost all direction.

"Fine," Suarez replied, grudgingly.

"Immediately it was opened fire upon by the TFNS _Karel Doorman_, the ship responsible for detecting the opening when the most interesting thing happened. The Ori ship did not fire back and soon after the ship's commander, a High Marshal Tomin opened a communications channel stating that he was surrendering the ship or the _Glorious Crusade_ as it was claimed to have been named and was requesting asylum.

"Rear Admiral Griffin, the senior officer at the scene after consultation with General Landry ordered the _Glorious Crusade_ to drop its shields and immediately after a platoon of Navy SEALs as well members from the Marine Detachments from the ships of Battlecruiser Squadron Three wearing our prototype Zero-Gravity semi powered combat armor beamed aboard and took over the ship. Do you have any questions?"

"Where is the ship now?"

"We've taken the ship to an isolated facility on the dark side of the moon to be examined by our own as well as allied scientists. With luck we might be able to reverse engineer that monster shield of theirs as well as the big honking space gun of theirs. However it is going to be a while before that happens."

"And what of the public," asked Hayes. "Do they know any of this?"

"The members of the Military that were present as well as those civilians working on the extractors were told that the incident was now classified and that if any of this was released to the press then the government would find who was responsible and do one of the following after a military tribunal; either execution by firing squad or a one-man reconnaissance mission deep into Ori territory for the FIA that would probably end in their death."

"Ah," replied Geng in approval.

"And what about the ship's occupants?"

"When our forces boarded the ship, we found only one survivor which was High Marshal Tomin. The rest, save for one died of asphyxiation or as more commonly known as the suffocation. According to the survivor he killed them all by venting the atmosphere from his ship giving no air to breathe whatsoever. "

"And the last person?"

"We found him in the survivor's quarters shot to death by energy fire."

"Did the survivor admit to that too?"

"Yes he did."

"How lovely." replied the Justice Minister in a tone that was everything but.

"And where is this survivor now and what do we know about him?"

"I believe that the Director of the Federal Intelligence Agency would be better in answering your questions," replied O'Neill glad to be out of the spotlight.

"Thank you General," James Hunter, the Director of the Federal Intelligence Agency the intelligence service of the Republic. "The survivor as General O'Neill has said before is named Tomin and has the rank of High Marshal, the equivalent of a Fleet Admiral in the Navy or Field Marshal in the Army. According to his testimony, he has had previous experience with SG-1 and claims to be the husband of Vala Mal Doran."

"Has this been verified?" asked Hayes, not liking where this was heading at all.

"We've interviewed Ms. Mal Doran and she has confirmed this statement."

"I know that this is a bit off topic but does he know that she is married to Dr. Jackson?" asked O'Neill concerned about his friend, who at the moment was giving a tour of the planet to some ambassadors from one of Terra's allies.

"No General."

"If this is true, wouldn't she be guilty of polyandry?" questioned Carter.

"No," responded Marie Escobar, the Chief Legal Counsel to the President; or in layman's terms, the President's personal lawyer. "The Terran Constitution states that the regulation and issuing of marriage licenses is left up to the individual Federal State Governments not the Federal Government. And while the Federal Government as well as many state governments in North America, South America and Europe frowns upon multiple marriages it isn't outlawed due to some cultures of our planet still use this practice although even there it is very rare of them to do so."

"Ah."

"However due to the fact that Ms. Mal Doran was married in a country or state that we are at war with, we can either do a number of things. We can refuse to recognize the marriage on two grounds first because Ms. Mal Doran was clearly coerced into the marriage, second since we have no witnesses to verify the marriage besides the two of them and since we are at war with the Ori we can't ask them and if we did the veracity of the witnesses would be in doubt since they are citizens of hostile power. But if push comes to shove we can always get some judge from the Judiciary to annul it no questions asked."

"Thank you Marie. Do you have any more questions to ask before we get back on topic?" asked Hayes.

"No that's all," responded Carter.

"To as the President has stated 'get back on topic' do we know the motive or reason why this Tomin has defected?"

"Yes we do. According to him, he was in charge of the Ori force tasked with the subjugation of Tagrea. Apparently the actions of his men and fellow Marshal's disgusted him as they pulled a Nanking (Authors note: look up Rape of Nanking) on a planetary scale."

"Ah," Hayes said, trying not to look at his Finance and Interior Ministers as the Chinese and the Japanese still had bad blood over what had happened seventy years ago. "Have we verified this?"

When the Terran Federal Republic was formed, it had asked some of its remaining closest human allies namely Pangara, Langara and Tagrea for help. While Pangara and Langara were more than willing to side with the Terrans, the reaction of the Tagreans shocked the Hayes Administration. Rather than give their help to their allies the Tagrean government immediately asked the Terran diplomatic team stationed on the planet to leave immediately and opted to stay out of the conflict altogether, ignoring warnings by both the Asgard and the Terrans that the Ori would be coming no matter what. And while the Terrans made many attempts to contact the Tagreans it appeared that the Tagreans had responded to none of them.

"No sir. With your permission and the consent of General O'Neill I'd like to send one of our newly acquired stealth cruisers to the Tagrea to verify his claims."

"General?"

"Its fine with me, however that ship better come back in one piece. I want that mission to be a short just in and out of that system and back home."

"Do it," Hayes ordered. Right now, even if the defector had brought an Ori ship with him he still only trusted him as far as he could throw that damn toilet bowl on Earth.

"Is there anything else that he has told us? Any tidbits of intelligence that he's learned of, after all he is a High Marshal," asked O'Neill.

"Yes he has. According to Tomin, the Orici is extremely angry with us and has decided to shift their focus from the Free Jaffa to us. As thanks to us, the Ori are having a devil of a time controlling their newly occupied worlds. And because of this they're bringing additional forces to wipe us out once and for all."

The room was silent for a short while as the occupants digested the information.

"What kind of reinforcements?"

"Tomin states that Adria's brining in three hundred legions to take out our forces on Chulak before she focuses her attention on Sol."

"And how reliable is this?" asked Vice President Ombutu skeptically.

"Very. When we debriefed him, we had listening devices implanted in the room, recording his testimony. Our vocal experts after listening to his statements with a voice analyzer believe that he is telling the truth. In addition we had a Tok'ra za'tarc detector present when we interviewed him."

"Assuming that this is true, this means that our forces on Chulak are going to be in a world of hurt. Even now, they're barely holding back the Ori advance. With additional reinforcements Chulak will fall along with our morale. Not to mention that the enemy is going to come back to Sol to finish what they started," stated Geng.

"Or this could be a very clever deception in which the Ori will launch a new offensive somewhere else in this galaxy or worse attack Sol while we send more of our military forces to Pangara."

"Gentlemen, I don't think that we can afford to take this information and discard it. If this information is false, then we'll be caught with our metaphorical pants down but if this information is true then at least we'll be prepared at what the Ori are going to be throwing at us," Hayes replied. "General O'Neill I want you to convene a meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff immediately and come up with a plan on what we're going to do about this. I want a summary of that said plan tonight. Do you understand me?"

"Crystal clear sir. I'll call them right now," O'Neill said, both he and Carter beginning to get out of their seats.

"You do that," Hayes said. He turned to the rest of the convened Security Council. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this meeting is now adjourned. We will reconvene tomorrow morning at the same time to discuss what plans General O'Neill and the rest of the Joint Chiefs have to implement as a response."

At Hayes pronouncement, the members of the Security Council got out of their seats and began to leave the room and back to their respective workplaces, the knowledge of what was going to happen weighing heavily on their minds.

**Chulak**

Former Captain and now currently Major Sanders sat on the ground inside the large firebase that housed the battalion's headquarters reassembling one of the battalions newly acquired Singapore Technologies Kinetics Ultimax 100 Mk 4 Squad Automatic Weapons fresh from the factories in Singapore that had been adopted by the Army and soon the Marine Corps.

While many soldiers and marines liked the M249 Squad Automatic Weapon, it did have drawbacks. The weight of the weapon was one of the complaints that many infantrymen and now women had since the M249 was so heavy that it required two people, half of a fire team to use the weapon properly one person to haul the weapon and the other to carry the ammo. The second was more of the concern of the bureaucrats as the weapon was extremely expensive due to the massive amount of machined parts and cost when bought in bulk was around 1500 Federal Credits (one credit is about 2 dollars or one British Pound) each and with the troops on Chulak firing on average ten to fifteen million rounds a day, it meant that the weapons were wearing out fast replacement parts as well as replacement weapons were needed. To top it all off, in a written report the Chief Executive Officer of FN Herstal the makers of the M249 had told the Defense Ministry that his company's factories were currently at full capacity and could not process any more urgent orders meaning that they could not produce the numbers at the rate of M249s that the Army and the Marines wanted.

Thus the Army and Marines launched a joint request for an off the shelf automatic weapon that could be produced to supplement the M249 in order to meet its demands for the campaign on Chulak. Naturally the defense industry, nearly salivating at the mouth at the prospects of more Federal contracts quickly responded to the call.

Heckler and Koch offered the MG4 in the competition; however this was one of the first designs to go for a number of reasons. First of all, the MG4 was very pricey and was the same price if not more expensive than the M249. In addition the fact that Heckler and Koch had won massive contracts to provide the standard pistol, submachine gun and assault rifle of the Terran Army and Marine Corps did not help at all. If Heckler and Koch were to get this contract, many companies in the small arms sector would consider the Federal Government to be even more biased towards the company for any contracts even though the company did have a strong reputation as makers of quality firearms. The fact that Heckler and Koch were up to its metaphorical eyebrows in orders as well only cemented the belief.

NORINCO fielded a modified version of its QBZ-97 that was equipped with a rail interface system that met the standard military specifications of the Terran Military. However the Defense Ministry too rejected this, as the design was not ambidextrous thus was not capable of being used safely by left-handed personnel as the bullet casings would eject straight into the face of the solider firing it. Although the majority of the population was right handed, the Terran Armed Forces with a current total strength 70 million personnel due to statistics there was bound to be a significant amount of left handed personnel as eight to fourteen of the population was left handed.

IZHMASH the makers of the AK-47 series of rifles submitted the RPK-74. However while it was the cheapest entry in the terms of cost per unit, due to the fact that the barrel was not removable in the field and had to be removed by an armorer with specialized equipment meant that the entry was disqualified quickly as it could not be fired for a sustained amount of time something that was a must for the military.

The evaluation process continued until two entries remained, the Israeli Military Industries Negev and the Singapore Technologies Kinetics Ultimax 100 Mk 4. And rather than select a winner from the two entries the Defense Ministry with the blessing of the House (1) decided to purchase massive quantities of _both_ weapons from their respective companies that were to be sent to the troops in Chulak as soon as the guns were fresh off the production lines in Israel and Singapore. (2)

Sanders sighed out loud as he finished reassembling the weapon and opened a condom packet put the wrapper in one of his pockets and placed the freshly unwrapped condom over the muzzle in order to keep any dirt from fouling the barrel. While condoms had been most widely known for their original purpose of contraception, they also had other uses. Terran soldiers had used them to protect their rifles ever since the start of World War II and even though it was almost seventy years since then, the Terran Military still used them for the same role for the war against the Ori something that the general public was not aware of until recently. TIME Magazine or maybe it was Newsweek Sanders didn't know or care, had recently run a series of articles about the lives of soldiers and in one of their pieces had criticized the current Administration particularly Defense Minister Hammond over the fact that many of the troops had to pay out of their own pocketbooks in order to maintain their gear. In response to the accusations the Defense Ministry had quickly contacted the condom manufacturers to create a special condom that was 16 inches long to fit over the barrel of the M4 carbine used by the Military. However according to scuttlebutt the reason to why the condoms had the word medium written on every one of them was due to a special condition on the contract made by those at the highest levels of government at the urging of General O'Neill.

Something wasn't right. He could feel it. The Ori had attacked his battalion's position the last couple of days however it seemed as if they were holding back as the last couple of attacks seemed a bit lacking. And while during that time he was happy about that, as his casualties would not be as heavy, right now the fact of the matter was weighing heavily on his mind like the proverbial sword of Damocles suspended above his held up only by a single horsehair. Little did he know that that horsehair was going to snap quicker than he imagined.

Sanders stood up and took a look around the firebase to see what the other occupants. His Staff, and the rest of his headquarters company were either cleaning their weapons like he had just been, preparing battle plans for him to look over or taking a quick bite to eat from their inedible and nearly poisonous MREs.

Beside him, Chelsea Somerville sat with her legs crossed Indian style, or in Native American Fashion the now 'proper way' to say it these days, Sanders hated being Politically Correct and as a result made a constant effort not to be as much as possible with a laptop specially designed for rugged use in her lap as she was in the process of typing up something, probably another article for her paper.

Sanders picked up the Ultimax 100 slug and with his other hand, checked the time. As he was scheduled to leave his forward command post sometime within the next ten minutes to make a front line inspection of Charlie Company.

Suddenly the once peaceful atmosphere ended as two of the M577s exploded followed by a large shriek.

Sanders along with everyone else in the firebase dove to the ground in order to escape the majority of the blast. Sanders took a moment to thank whatever deity was out there that he was wearing full combat gear instead of his usual patrol cap and fatigues now that he was a Battalion CO. Half a second later, Sanders went from the prone position to a crouch, allowing him to see the situation inside the Fire Base but at the same time keeping him protected in the sandbags. "Is everyone all right?" he called out.

The once semi pristine headquarters of a battalion was a now a mess. While the Ori air strike had focused on destroying his command vehicles and not the inhabitants, as many Military Intelligence Analysts had theorized that the optics on Ori attack craft were superior to their Terran Counterparts and could probably see past the pre-war camouflage covering that the Army had put over their command centers in the field much of the shrapnel from wreckage of the two M577s had gone all over the place. Sanders could see that a couple of the headquarters platoon's personnel were lying on the ground either seriously wounded or at the worst-case dead.

"We've got wounded!" called out a soldier, his uniform in taters. Sanders guessed that he had been one of the closest to the explosion.

"I'll call for a MEDEVAC!" stated another soldier, who had stood up and was running towards the radio when his head suddenly exploded.

_What the hell?_ He thought, his head jerking to the direction of where the soldier's head had exploded. A second later, he saw them. _Shit!_ He swore mentally. While he and his fellow soldiers were distracted by the sudden arrival of enemy aircraft, they hadn't noticed that the enemy had also dropped off troops to assault the firebase as well. "Heads up everyone; we've got enemy troops assaulting our position."

At that, Sanders grabbed the Ultimax 100 that was lying just a couple of feet away from him, ripped off the condom covering the barrel, opened a pouch on his chest rig mounted on top of his armored vest and took a 30 round STANAG magazine and loaded into the Ultimax. _Thank God for small things_ he thought, as the automatic weapon was intact and ready to fire.

He cautiously crawled on his knees using his legs and hands to propel himself until he got the sandbags at the edge of one side of the defensive perimeter. When he got there, he quickly took a peek over the barricade to get a better look at the tactical situation and stuck his head back down. He swore once again, the situation wasn't good but at the same time it wasn't that bad. About fifty or so enemy troops, around one over strength platoon or two under strength platoons were assaulting his position. And while they did outnumber his surviving forces two to one, a Terran rule of thumb stated that in order for an attack to be successful against an entrenched enemy with a defensible position, an attacking force had to outnumber the defenders three to one in order to be successful.

Sanders quickly brought up his weapon up over the sandbags and took aim through the EOTech 553 reflex sight mounted on his weapon via a Picatinny rail, firing a short five round burst dropping three enemy warriors and ducking behind the barricades. Ten seconds later he brought up his weapon again firing another burst however only dropping two Ori Warriors. Sanders repeated this action over and over again taking great care to vary the time he spend ducking behind the barricades in order to prevent the enemy from determining when he was going to emerge from the sandbags once again.

Halfway through firing his third magazine, Sanders heard the heavy _tack_, _tack _of one of the Firebase's stationary MK 19 Automatic grenade launchers as if fired 40mm grenade rounds, similar to those used by the M320 under barrel grenade launcher, at the enemy. He grinned. If every one of the M2 Heavy Machine guns and MK 19 grenade launchers were manned, they'd have no trouble wiping out the enemy attack. As the presence of the two heavy weapons would serve as a much needed force multiplier for his forces.

Just after he loaded his seventh magazine, Sanders took aim with his weapon. However as he scanned the area it was apparent that there were no more enemies in his field of fire and that enemy fire had been cut down to nothing. He ducked down behind the sandbags once again, leery of any enemy tricks. However after two minutes nothing happened. He sighed, as he didn't like what he was going to do. "Lieutenant Miller!" he called out, wanting the head of his Personal Security Detachment.

"Sir," stated a different voice, belonging to Miller's second in command, Staff Sergeant Wang Jing Wei. "The Lieutenant's dead."

Sanders cursed mentally, as another one of his men had died in this damn war. "Sergeant, I want you to take you and your men to secure the area outside the firebase."

"Yes sir," the Sergeant said, before calling out the surviving members of the Personal Security Detachment to police up enemy weapons as well as to make sure that every Ori warrior was dead.

"Sir," stated new voice in an urgent tone.

Sanders turned around and faced his aide, Lieutenant Barnes, who had a grim expression on his face.

"Sir, Captain Masters has just radioed in. The Ori had just launched another attack on our lines. He estimates that the attacking force is probably around Brigade strength."

Sanders swore under his breath. "Get me an uplink to Captain Masters; I want to know the entire tactical situation."

"Yes sir."

**  
Chulak Allied Command**

General Wilson watched at ground floor of the gate room as another Leopard 2A7 bearing the Black Two Headed Eagle of the Pangaran Empire emerged from the Stargate, doing his best to keep the look of disgust off of his face. While he appreciated the addition of the Pangaran I Corps to the Terran 8th Army increasing the number of Corps under his command from three to four and believed that the Pangarans would be effective soldiers he had not confidence whatsoever in their commander.

Marshal Werik, the Commander of the Pangaran I Corps was a member of the Pangaran Nobility, and according to his personnel file was a the Pangaran version of a Duke. However Wilson was an open minded person and had no problem with dealing with any members who happened to have titles and would not judge someone strictly based off of the circumstances of their birth, after all two of the most brilliant Commanders in the history of Earth had been Dukes, Werik was no Arthur Wellesley. Instead of earning his commission like everyone else, Werik had purchased his by giving a large donation to the Pangaran government in exchange for a Marshal's commission. The fact that he had the gall to arrive in his full dress uniform along with his staff who had seemed mortified at their commander's orders had only made Wilson and _his_ staff even more annoyed with him.

"Impressive aren't they," said Werik, his eyes focused on the Main Battle Tank that had only been a figment of some novelist's dreams just years ago.

Before their encounter with SG-1 and the SGC, the military Pangaran Empire mainly consisted of foot infantry with a smattering of their equivalent of horse cavalry. Their most advanced military weapon at the time was a bolt-action semi-automatic repeating rifle, something that Wilson's own _grandfather_ would have found familiar when he was fighting in the trenches in France a century ago. However due to the fact that they had never fought a conflict that had included trench warfare, the Pangaran Army had never needed to develop armored vehicles.

When first introduced to the Terran Army and its equipment, the Marshals were impressed with the Army's equipment and capabilities. However what impressed them the most was the Terran's vehicles, as they had never seen anything like it, causing their Marshals to ask their government to approve a spending package that would mechanize their entire army, ordering hundreds if not thousands or vehicles armored and unarmored.

"Yes they are," stated Wilson doing his best to keep himself even tempered.

"With these tanks we should be able to drive the Ori back where they came from," he stated confidently.

Wilson was saved from making another diplomatic response when suddenly a his aide, Major Levenstein who had been stationed in the war room half around 400 meters away, a testament to the size of the massive underground structure, sprinted towards him.

"Sir," he said, not even out of breath, evidence of his superb physical shape. "We have news from our front line commanders that the Ori have launched another attack."

"How bad?"

"It's bad sir. It's a full on counterattack. They've committed their air assets."

"That bad?"

While the Ori had a number of Furies optimized for atmospheric operations, after the first which they had engaged the Terrans they had stopped using them despite the fact that they had been previously very effective against Jaffa Ground Forces. This was due to the massive amounts of anti aircraft assets brought by the Terrans as the Ori quickly found out that while they were able to enter Terran airspace, the odds of them returning were very low The fact that the Ori had committed their air assets meant that the Ori were serious about breaking the Allied lines.

"Yes sir. While we were able to shoot almost all of them down, they were able to hit some of our artillery emplacements, field headquarters and field hospitals among other battlefield installations."

Wilson swore under his breath. "What's our status?"

"The lines are holding, although it's a bit of a madhouse as they were able to completely destroy some of our command posts."

Wilson turned to Werik. "Well Marshal, I do believe its time for the Pangaran Army to show the rest of us what's it made out of."

"But, the only assets on the ground are two battalions of Mechanized Infantry only two thirds of only one of my Divisions and they don't have their vehicles with them," objected the Pangaran.

"You mean Brigades," corrected Wilson, "there are three battalions to a Brigade and three to four Brigades to a Division. Marshal we don't always get what we want or fight on a situation."

"But…"

"Marshal, call your relief," Wilson said, annoyed. While this might impact Terran-Pangaran relations, to him it was well worth the cost.

"What?"

"Effective immediately, you are relieved of command of the Pangaran I Corps."

"You can't do that!" objected Werik. "The Pangaran Army is not a part of its Terran Counterpart."

"As the Supreme Allied Commander on Chulak, I have the full right and authority to do so," Wilson explained, "I have the sole responsibility to dictate overall strategy and manage the multinational force present here." He turned his head away from the protesting Marshal and to his Staff. "Who's the XO?"

"That would be me, Vice Marshal Bretoor at your service," stated a weathered looking Officer who seemed not comfortable at all in his dress uniform.

"Good. Effective immediately you are the new Acting Commanding Officer of the Pangaran I Corps until you are confirmed by your government or if your government sends another officer, which if they choose to take the second option will not be like that useless piece of flesh right here."

"Yes General."

"I'm sorry to say this but since you only have a faction of your forces here on planet, I'm going to ask that for the time being that the Pangaran 1st Mechanized Infantry Division be disbanded into company sized elements in order to reinforce our existing units."

The Pangaran Officer sighed, reluctantly. After all, few Officers liked handing off their men to fight under someone else's command. "Fine," he stated.

"Thank you," Wilson said. While he was _the_ Supreme Allied Commander there were limits to what he could and could not do and this was one of them as the management of Pangaran affairs was an internal affair. "Major Levenstein," he said to his aide, "Get on the horn to the Army Air Corps I want those A-10s and Typhoons launched tow minutes ago."

"Already done sir, General Michalski was in the Command Center when the news came in and scrambled all of his assets. They're either taking off or already in the air."

"Good. And what about Prime Terak and his forces?"

"He's waiting for orders."

"Tell him that I'm committing ALL of the reserves and that he and his forces are to advance to the front lines immediately."

**2****nd**** Battalion Headquarters**

"Sir you're meaning to tell me that you can't give me any support?" yelled Sanders at the Commander of the 1st Brigade Combat Team, his direct commander. "You're fucking kidding me."

"There's nothing I can do, all of my artillery assets are already devoted as you're not the only battalion out there that needs help and I can't give you that artillery support until ten minutes from now," replied his superior.

"What part of I don't think we can hold out for another ten minutes can you understand? My mortar platoon has been out of ammo for the last ten minutes. I have no artillery support whatsoever," Sanders nearly screamed at the Brigade commander.

"Look Major, I don't care if you have to move heaven and earth but you are to hold the line with or without artillery support."

"Yes sir," Sanders replied. _I don't know how we can do this. All of my units are committed to the fighting. I'm loosing men and women every second. For every soldier I loose I'm down one more pair of hands that can wield a weapon but for every Ori warrior I kill, ten more will take his place. I just don't know how much longer I can keep this up._ He thought to himself, doing his utmost to mask his unease to his men.

Much to his surprise, thirty seconds later, his radio blared to life once again. "Major, I've just got off the line with division and I've got reinforcements available although it's not much. Do you want them?"

"Hell yes, I'll take 'em."

"They'll be inbound in three."

"Thank you sir."

"Not a problem."

Sanders turned to his staff or what was left of it. "What's our current strength?"

"Alpha and Bravo Companies are down to 40-50 percent strength, and Charlie and Delta Companies are down to six operable tanks which luckily for us includes all of our Wittmanns, one heavily damaged Challenger and one moderately damaged Leopard," responded Barnes who had come to become his Chief of Staff.

"And our engineers?"

"Echo Company has been withered down to a mere 30 sir."

"Damn," he swore, using his gloved hands to wipe off the sweat on his brow.

While Sanders and the rest of the soldiers of the 2nd Battalion were busy fighting the Ori, Chelsea Somerville sat on the ground, her back against the sandbags, hunched over as she was writing as if it were her last will and testament.

_Well it could possibly be_, she thought with a bit of gallows humor. While she was no military genius, she had overheard what the Captain… she corrected herself, Major's conversation with his superior and what it seemed, the battle was not going well at all.

She paused her writing for a moment, choosing to set her battered and worn ballpoint pen down on the dirt and ran her hand through her auburn hair and grimaced. Her hair before she had arrived on this godforsaken planet was long, clean, pristine and glimmered in the light, her pride and joy. Now it was a short, ratty, and tangled up mess, a pale reflection of what it once was. She had personally shortened her hair a week after she had arrived on planet borrowing Sanders' combat knife to do so. She grinned at the memory the memory of Sanders' reaction to her new hairstyle as he had told her that she better stick to being a journalist as she made in his own words 'a real shitty barber.'

The sound of heavy machine gun fire snapped her back to the present. She had been in a war zone long enough that she could tell if the shots being fired were from what type of weapon whether they be a pistol or an anti-tank weapon. Her experiences on Chulak had aged her in ways that none of her coworkers back home in England would ever know. She'd seen a man's face turn into paste, the rest of his mortal remains splattering all over her and her clothes. She never forget the screams that both Terran and Ori soldiers had yelled as they were hit, not lucky enough to die a quick and painless death. However the thing that she would not forget was the smell of death, the foul stench that permeated the air as the Earth began to decompose the rotting remains of those who once lived.

Determined to write about what she saw until her last breath or the ink in her pen ran out, whichever came first. She picked up her writing instrument and went back to writing with an impassioned zeal.

Even though the thunderous roar of the battle was raging, Sanders' excellent hearing was still able to pick up the sound of the helicopters arriving thirty seconds before everyone else did.

The group of twelve UH-60 Blackhawks was fast approaching Sander's position. Sanders noticed that they were flying low to the ground to avoid enemy anti aircraft fire, as even though the Fire Base was behind the front lines, the fighting was only around two kilometers away well within the range of the main guns of an Ori Archangel.

As soon as the helicopters hit the ground, the helicopters began to disgorge troops. However much to Sanders' surprise these troops were wearing _flecktarn_, the camouflage pattern of the former German Army and were carrying G36 Assault Rifles. _Who are these people? _Sanders thought as for as far as he knew, the G36 and flecktarn was not standard issue. He had expected the helicopters to bring in more soldiers or even the remote possibility of Marines, not these strangers.

His questions were soon answered as one of the new arrivals; presumably their leader entered the firebase and asked, "Who is in charge here?" in a heavy accented English.

"I am," Sanders said, as he faced the newcomer. "Major Michael Dean Sanders, Acting Commanding Officer of the 2nd Battalion of the Ninth Infantry Regiment."

The newcomer quickly saluted, "Captain Tanis Reth, Commander of the 2nd Company of the 5th Pangaran Mechanized Infantry Regiment. By orders from Vice Marshal Bretoor, the acting commander of the Pangaran I Corps, my men and I are to be attached to your forces indefinitely."

Sanders grinned. "All right Captain, effective immediately, you and your men for the time being shall be designated as Foxtrot Company (Provisional) of the 2nd Battalion of the 9th Infantry Regiment. Are you and your men combat ready?"

"We are ready and willing to fight. However some of the men are a bit," he paused for a second, thinking about the proper word in a foreign tongue, "…woozy? As it has been their first time in one of our helicopters."

"Yeah, that would be correct. However airsick or not they're going to have to fight."

"Of course, I would not have it any other way."

"One question though, you said you were Mech Infantry. Where are your vehicles?"

"Our Marder Infantry Fighting Vehicles were still in Iceland waiting to be transported out of the Stargate when we were called to the front lines. But do not worry prior to our change in designation a year ago Regiment was what you call a Regiment of Foot and are accustomed to fighting without vehicles."

"All right then," Sanders led him to another part of the firebase and pointed to a map showing where his subordinate units were, "I want you and your men to reinforce Echo Company over here."

"Yes sir."

"Good luck."

"Thank you," Reth saluted before leaving to gather up his men to the front lines, not knowing that by the time this battle was over, half of his men would be dead or seriously wounded.

Sanders watched as many of the firebases occupants were outside trying to load up the battalion's seriously wounded onto the Blackhawks as soon as they could, out of the corner of his eye he saw Chelsea Somerville still sitting on the ground leaning against some sandbags still writing. He steeled himself for what he had to do. "Ms. Somerville," he said in his most polite tone.

"Yes Major Sanders?" she said, looking up and confused as he had not called her by her surname for a while.

"It's time for you to go?" he stated simply.

"Go where?" she asked puzzled. Then it dawned on her. "Major, I know you have my best intentions in mind but I am not leaving," she said adamantly.

"Ms. Somerville, I don't think that you understand the gravity of the situation."

"I do bloody understand the damn situation," she retorted. "I know that there is a high chance of me dying if I stay. However I knew this before I even set foot upon this fucking planet."

"Do you know what will happen to you if you get captured…?"

"Yes I know and I accept the risk," she interrupted Sanders. "Why do you insist on me leaving? Is it because I'm a reporter or is it because I'm a woman?"

Sanders sighed, "Maybe it's because I happen to care about you." He shook his head, "I know that I'm going to regret this later on, but since it seems that nothing I can do will make you change your mind you can stay, just don't complain to me when the sit really hits the fan." He quickly turned around and left a completely shocked Chelsea Somerville in his wake.

**Keflavik Terran Federal Army Base, formerly Keflavik International Airport, Iceland Federal State**

"Damn it Colonel! I do not care how many sprained ankles, torn rotator cuffs, or hernias that your men and women get," bellowed the Commander of the Keflavik Installation to his subordinate. "I want the cargo of those planes offloaded immediately," he pointed to the group of 10 C-5 Galaxy Aerial Transports that were currently parked outside of his office. "I've got fifteen more planes flying over the base waiting to land as there is no more fucking space to park left in this airfield. Either you and your men get that cargo off of those planes in ten minutes or you will be relieved of command and will be sent to Chulak to personally fight on the front lines."

"Yes sir," the Colonel saluted, scurrying out of the Commandant's Office. While there was no way in hell he'd be able to offload all the equipment off of those planes but he and his men would do their best.

The phone inside of the base commandant's office began to ring.

He picked it up at the phone halfway through the first ring. "What is it?" he growled.

"Sir, we've connected the ZPM to the 'gate. And we're dialing up the coordinates now."

When word reached back to Terra about the danger of the Terran lines being overrun, General O'Neill with the consent of President Hayes, sent an order down to Keflavik stating that they were to use Earth's sole Zero Point Module to keep the connection with Chulak as long as possible. This would allow the Earth to send in a steady flow of desperately reinforcements and ammunition to the Terran forces on Chulak. However this was a major risk the Terrans were making as it would mean that if Earth were attacked via Space, there would be no way to power the remaining Ancient Drone Weapons that had been so effective against Ori Battlecruisers, leaving Earth more susceptible to attack.

"Excellent. Inform me on anymore results," the Base Commander hung up the phone and watched from his office as a large formation of troops began to hastily exit from a newly arrived 747. _Good luck_, he mentally wished them. They would need it.

**2****nd**** Battalion HQ**

"I want you to shift your fire," radioed Sanders to the Commander commanding one of two artillery batteries under the command of the 1st Brigade while using a pair of binoculars to monitor the battle. "The last salvo was too close to call, I just lost one man to friendly fire and I don't want to repeat the experience." The Brigade Commander, true to his word had given Sanders one of the brigade's two artillery batteries to support the Major's battalion. However it would be for only ten minutes as the Brigades other two battalions had also requested artillery support and Sanders was making the most of his allotted time.

"Rodger that. We'll adjust our guns. Next salvo should be arriving in thirty seconds."

Sanders put his radio back in its place on his chest rig and continued to survey the front. Sanders watched as his battalion's sole remaining Challenger 2 Main Battle fired another round from its main cannon while firing its coaxial 7.62mm chain gun. The commander of the said tank had his or her, Sander's couldn't tell due to his distance from the battle and the fact that battle dress uniforms pretty much hid the wearer's figure, torso sticking out of the turret and from the look of it was yelling out orders to her crew inside the tank. The commander was either extremely brave or completely suicidal as he or she was exposing him or herself to enemy energy staff fire in order to give their crew a higher chance of survival while decreasing the chances of their own. Sanders made a mental note to find out who was in command of that tank, providing that he survived the battle.

A loud roar rising above the din of the battle informed him that the artillery shells were incoming. Seconds later, the shells exploded in midair, sending shrapnel as well as bits of dirt and debris all over the place. Sanders saw dozens if not a hundred Ori warriors fall to the ground, most of them in bits and pieces. If Sanders was to learn one thing from his experience on Chulak, it was that the Ori hated Terran weapons with a passion.

Even though those warriors died, an equal number of replacements took their place. The Ori were launching human wave attacks one after another to breakthrough the lines of his forces. Much like the Chinese had done in the Korean War. While they were taking heavy casualties right and left, one could not expect to get off lightly if they were to charge right into heavy machine gun fire, they did have the numbers and the will to do so. And at the rate that they were going, he was afraid that his forces would run out of ammunition before they would run out of bodies.

_Well at least we can take as many of those bastards down with us._ He thought grimly. Even though he was most likely going to die on this planet, the thought of taking down as many of those alien bastards to hell with him cheered him up a little. He hit the send button on his radio once more, "That's perfect. Keep on firing."

"Will do."

Sanders radio blared to life once again. "Major," stated the Brigade Commander. "I'm going to have to inform you that your artillery support is being taken away. I have a flight of four A-10 Thunderbolts rapidly approaching your position for a strafing run."

"Rodger that sir," Sanders replied. "What's their ETA?" While he was disappointed that he was getting his artillery support taken away, the prospect of getting a flight of aircraft designed for close air support was near priceless. Besides, using artillery and close air support at the same time would be foolish as even the risk of an artillery shell hitting one of the low-flying aircraft was low, it was high enough that no one wanted to risk invoking Murphy's law, especially at a time like this.

"One and a half minutes. They're switching to your battalion's frequency."

"Thank you sir," Sanders said.

"Not a problem."

Sanders switched his radio back to the frequency that his battalion used. "All units prepare to pop smoke at my command. We've got an airstrike coming in."

"Rodger that," radioed Captain Masters, Bravo Company's Commanding Officer.

"Yes sir," stated Lieutenant Nguyen, the senior surviving officer of Alpha Company.

"Understood," responded Charlie Company's Commander.

"Will do," stated the soldier in charge of Delta Company.

"As you command," replied Captain Reth, speaking for both Echo and Foxtrot Companies.

Sanders sighed in relief, while close air support was very effective the chances of friendly fire even with modern precision guided munitions were high. By using smoke to mark their positions, the pilots of the aircraft would hopefully see where his men were. Sanders shuddered at the thought of his men killed by their own side. However if they popped smoke too early, the smoke would not only fade away to the point where the pilots would not be able to see them but in addition would reveal their positions to the enemy as well.

"Major Sanders," his radio blared again. "This is Eagle Flight. We're a minute out."

"Rodger that," Sanders replied. "My men are popping smoke now." He watched as his men used their smoke grenades, causing a large amount of red and green tinted smoke to rise from the ground, knowing full well that they had now told the enemy their exact positions.

The sudden explosions ripping through the Ori lines told him that the A-10s arrived.

The A-10 was designed during the Cold War to provide close air support to American and NATO troops for the eventual war between the United States ad the Soviet Union that thankfully never happened. Armed with a large 30mm auto cannon with a magazine the size of a Volkswagen Beetle along with numerous hard points for air to ground missiles, it was designed to wreck hell on Warsaw Pact and Soviet Troops. Although it never served in the theater that it was originally developed, in the First Gulf War it had wrecked havoc on Iraqi Forces, destroying countless men and vehicles.

The newest model of the A-10, the A-10D had been upgraded with a modern technology. Instead of titanium, the aircraft was completely made up of trinium, making it even stronger. The engines had been replaced with a model similar that used by the Navy's F-302, allowing them to get to the battlefield much quicker as well as requiring a shorter runway to take off and land. In addition, the avionics and internal components had been upgraded allowing the pilot a better view of the battlefield. However the most important improvement was that the D model was modular allowing it to be disassembled and reassembled quickly in order for it to be transported through the Stargate and onto allied planets and conflict zones.

Three of the Ori Archangels exploded, as the aircraft had fired a number of air-to-ground missiles at them as they flew over the Ori ground forces.

The aircraft looped back for another strafing run. In a short amount of time, the four aircraft had cut the attacking Ori forces in his sector into pieces.

"Major, we're out of ammo and have to return to base. Good luck," radioed the Officer in charge of the Flight of A-10s.

"Thanks. Will do," Sanders replied.

Sander's men, who had taken cover during the strafing run, decided to take advantage of the situation and resumed firing the second the A-10s left the area, killing many of the surviving Ori warriors on the battlefield. It was neither kind nor humane mowing down the enemy as if they were blades of grass, but neither was war.

**Ori Mobile Command Headquarters**

"Ori damn it!" swore the Lord High Marshal in charge of the Ori forces on Chulak. His forces were on the brink of victory when those Ancient-damned aircraft showed up to foul up his perfectly crafted plan. "How many casualties do we have?"

"We have heavy casualties in seven legions with another three requesting to withdrawal from combat as they are in danger of being completely wiped out. We also have lost a large number of our sacred Archangel mobile siege engines," stated a Legate in his staff.

The Marshal swore once more. The Archangel mobile siege engines unlike those damn 'tanks' that the Tau'ri used were much more than weapons of war, they were ancient holy shrines that had been used in last crusade thousands years ago, each with their own histories and battle honors. A legion was lucky to have ten of them. And for every Archangel they lost, it would be lost forever as the sacred manuscripts detailing their instruction had been lost in the sands of time.

"My Lord, Marshal Viran is requesting permission to send additional warriors to supplement his forces to the fore font. He believes that with these forces he should be victorious."

"Tell him no. This is the fourth time he has said that for this day. Sound a general retreat."

"My Lord?" asked the Legate surprised.

"We've lost enough warriors today. I will not send more of my warriors to their deaths if we do not have a reasonable chance of victory. I owe them that much," the Marshal said, his mind seeing the young men under his command torn apart by the infernal weapons of the Tau'ri. "Let it be known that I take full responsibility for the debacle that we have today," he sighed; knowing that the second reinforcements arrived on Chulak, his life was forfeit. The Orici did not suffer the act of failure well.

**Authors Notes**

**Terran Security Council**

Members

Chair: President Henry Hayes

Regular Members: Vice President Thabo Ombutu

Foreign Minister Elena Suarez

Interior Minister Geng Li Wei

Minister for War Production Egon Berlitz

Finance Minister: Hiroshi Sakumoto

Military Advisor: General Jonathan O'Neill, TFSF (Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff)

Intelligence Advisor: Director James Hunter, Director of the Federal Intelligence Agency (FIA)

Additional Members: Mark Archer, Chief of Staff to the President

Marie Escobar, Chief Legal Council to the President

Daniel Jackson, Special Advisor to the President

Major General Samantha Carter-O'Neill, TFSF Chief of Staff to the Chairman

**Order of Battle for the Second Battalion of the Ninth Infantry Regiment (Post Attack)**

Commanding Officer: Major Michael Sanders (acting)

Headquarters Platoon

Three Mechanized Infantry Companies

Alpha Company

Bravo Company

Foxtrot Company (Provisional)

Two Tank Companies

Charlie Company

Delta Company

One Combat Engineer Company

Echo Company

Two Scout Platoons (4 Humvee/Cheetah each)

One Mortar Platoon (4 Stryker 120mm mortar carriers)

One Sniper Section (4 Snipers)

Battalion Commander's Personal Security Detachment (20 Infantrymen)

Footnotes

(1) In the Terran Federal Constitution the House is responsible for appropriating funds while the Senate is responsible for passing laws and confirming Presidential appointments to the Judiciary and positions in the Executive branch. However if any piece of legislation besides the ratification of a Treaty or a confirmation of a Presidential appointment passes in one section of the legislature it has to meet approval by the other section. So if the House creates the Budget for fiscal year 2010 and passes it the Senate has to pass it before the President can sign it into law.

(2) While this does make logistics hell for the Terran Federal Armed Forces to have equipment of different types to fulfill the same role, the Terrans are doing this to keep up with demand by ordering equipment from whatever source they can in order to get the gear as fast as possible damn the consequences. The US Army and Marine Corps in real life is doing this with the MRAP program to bring as many of the vehicles as they can into Iraq in the quickest time possible.


	15. Notice

After much thought, I've decided to rewrite Rise of the Tau'ri. I started the fic as a Junior in High School and I wasn't too happy with the planned plot. Now that I'm a Sophomore in College, I think that I can do a better job. I also wanted to make this story grittier, grimmer and more realistic as it seemed like the story was too happy and go lucky. I've posted the first Chapter of Rise of the Tau'ri Revised already. I hope you enjoy it.

In addition, I've changed the location of my website. Utah Jak, the author of Chains of the Kindred and I have decided to make a full-fledged Science Fiction Forum. The link to the site is on my Profile. Feel free to register, comment and post your own content.

Thank you very much,

-Cast2007

I will take down this message later on.

For those of you that are interested, this is what I had for Chapter Fourteen before I made my mind to rewrite the story.

**Pentagon, Arlington, Federal State of Virginia, Earth, Terran Federal Republic**

"All right gentlemen," stated O'Neill addressing the assembled heads of the Armed Services of the Terran Military, "the President wants to know what we plan to do about the new reinforcements coming in from the Ori home galaxy."

"First off," said General Lee, the Chief of Staff of the Army. "We need to keep on sending supplies and replacements through the Stargate as long as the Zero Point Module can keep the connection."

"Noted," affirmed O'Neill.

"In addition, due to the fact that our forces are barely capable of holding the line I suggest that we send an additional division to Chulak."

"Are you sure that it is possible?" asked Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Hastings skeptically. "Its hard enough to get supplies to the planet. Wouldn't additional forces make it even harder? From what I can see, the costs massively outweigh the benefits."

"Well it would be possible if your service would do their job," Lee snapped.

"Excuse me!" said Hastings indignantly.

"You damn well know what I mean. If your service hadn't built those white elephants of yours we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Then what would you have to guard those vaunted transports of yours, a pair of meager destroyers and frigates? I bet those would be perfectly capable of standing up to an Ori Ship of the line."

Generals Timoshenko and Johnson heads of the Space Force and the Marine Corps both sighed and rolled their eyes, this was the second time this week that the Navy and the Army had clashed over the very same issue.

When construction of Earth's Space Navy began, the Army and Navy had different ideas on how the resources that Earth possessed should be devoted to the Navy. While Earth did have many shipyards on the planet, most of them were too small to build anything other than a frigate or a corvette, as space warships were much larger than their aquatic predecessors. So rather than build new yards on land, the Terran government chose to place the majority of their yards in space as it would be much cheaper and faster to build the facilities in space to do so rather than to wait months for dirt side installations to be built and/or modified for construction.

However when choosing to place a space based industry for its shipbuilding needs, there were some major drawbacks. The major bottleneck was that supplies including air, food and other necessities not to mention the tons to trinium that made up the hull of the assembled warships had to be shipped daily to the yards. Thus meaning that out of the hundred plus yards in orbit around Earth, only thirty or so were operational at the moment due to logistical constraints.

While transporters were perfect at transporting personnel from ships to the ground and vice versa, they were too energy intensive for constantly transporting supplies up to the Lagrange Points as an internal report by the Ministry of Energy stated that if this were to happen 60 of Earth's energy grid would be devoted for their use, something that was unacceptable both politically and practically even during time of war.

Spacecraft were also impractical as Earth did not have enough spacecraft to go around at the moment and could not devote ships to haul refined trinium from the planetary surface to the space installations. To design a spacecraft to suit the job would take a year at the very minimum and another six months before it became available for mass use. And even if Earth did, the time it took to load the ore onto the ship, to transport it and to finally off load it was too long for practical use.

The solution to the problem was as an Asgard scientist called it when discovering the plan. "Typical of the Tau'ri, primitive but effective." The Terran Federal Government with the assistance of the local state governments involved would build and develop three space elevators that would incorporate modern technology. The elevators would start from the surface of the Earth to above the atmosphere that at that end would house a large spaceport that would allow the newly arrived materials to be easily transferred over to waiting sublight capable barges that would then transport the materials to the yards. The diameter of each elevator would be 1.5 kilometers at both bases and 800 meters. The elevators would be propelled by an electromagnetic system, allowing hundreds of tons of materials to be swiftly transported from the surface to orbit in less than thirty minutes.

The locations of the three elevators were Equator, Northern Brazil and Kenya. The locations were selected for two reasons. The first was that each of these locations was situated at the equator. This was beneficial since the distance between the surface of the Earth and the edge of the atmosphere was 43 kilometers shorter than any other place on Earth, allowing the trip up from the ground to orbit and back to be shorter. The second was that the locations of these elevators would hopefully help develop the local economies of said states as the establishment of the elevators would bring countless jobs to the area and would hopefully increase the standard of living in the area.

The Navy wanted to start building a conventional Navy with the construction of heavy units such as battleships and carriers put at the highest priority. The Navy reasoned that since battleships and carriers were the only units capable of standing up to enemy ships of the line, priority should be placed to their construction as smaller ships such as frigates, destroyers and cruisers were not up to the task. Their second argument was that since those ships took much longer to build than smaller vessels, thus production should begin as quickly as possible in order to get those particular vessels ready for combat at the earliest possible date.

The Army on the other hand wanted production of troop transports and escort forces to be put at the first priority. Their argument was that the Stargate was not capable of support their logistical needs in combat zones across the galaxy and thus wanted the Navy to be capable of doing so at the first possible time, stating that the Navy needed to play ball with the rest of the military to support the Terran war effort.

The Navy's Admirals retorted saying that if they built those transports, what were they going to fight the Ori battlecruisers with, as the troop transports were not designed to engage enemy warships and would be sitting ducks against Ori ships and without proper support, were flying coffins waiting to be destroyed.

The Army made a rebuttal saying that they were prepared to take that risk as the more planets the Ori took, the more forces they would be able to draw from in order to attack Earth. Thus they needed to deny as many planets to the Ori as possible.

The bickering between the Army and the Navy, fueled by both difference in priorities as well as their historical rivalry went on until at the request of an exasperated Chairman O'Neill and very fed up Defense Minister Hammond, President Hayes stepped in. The result was a compromise. The Navy would have its way until the first of the three space elevators was complete, which at the moment was being opened at a ceremony presided by Admiral Collingsworth, much to his dislike. At that point, the Terran Federal Republic's shipbuilding strategy was to split the needs of the Army and the Navy with a quarter of its yards devoted to building carriers and battleships, half for cruisers, destroyers and frigates and the last quarter set aside for the transports that the Army wanted. While it didn't satisfy everyone, it was reluctantly agreed by both parties that it was the best possible solution.

"Dammit!" yelled O'Neill, his voice silencing the argument between the two officers, "will the two of you please knock it off. You two have been going at it, for the last week. This is a meeting of the _Joint_ Chiefs of Staff, not the fucking Army-Navy game!" O'Neill sighed, this was definitely one of the times that he wished that he was out in the field doing what he did best rather than staying back on Earth commanding a desk job, albeit a glorified desk job. _Why couldn't someone else take his place?_ He asked himself. _Because you're the best man for the job_ his conscience told him. He sighed.

O'Neill interrupted the argument. "Look, we can either spend all day arguing about whose fault it was and have nothing to show for it to the President and the Security Council. Or we can actually use what little time we have to find a solution to get out of this mess."

"Fine," both the men said, grumbling.

"Well," stated General Johnson, the Commandant of the Marines. "I have to echo the concerns of General Lee. The young men and women on Chulak and need reinforcement and they need it quickly. However I have to disagree with General Lee's proposed solution," the Marine said calmly.

"To put it simply if we place another division on Chulak, we will have one more formation to feed, equip and maintain in the field. Given the fact that the Stargate is the only way we can provide logistics support and the fact that we are barely able to reinforce the formations already deployed, I would not advise sending additional units as we have no way to support them in the field."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"As you all know, Project Benevolence has been completed a month ago," stated the Commandant, simply.

"Are you implying that we should use it?" asked Timoshenko cautiously. "Even with the war on, I doubt that the politicians would let us use it, especially on Friendly Territory."

"As much as I hate to say it, but given our current resources now and for the near future, we cannot keep up what we have been doing for the last month. Sooner or later, we will loose the ability to send supplies through the Stargate at a constant rate that is needed by our forces due to other commitments and the possibility of an accident at Keflavik," the other Officers nodded. While there had been no serious accidents at the base, there had been a couple of close calls resulting in injuries and a couple of deaths. All of the Joint Chiefs knew that sooner or later despite how careful they were and all the safety precautions they enacted, statistics was going to take its tool. "This gives us three possible outcomes. We either tell our young men and women to surrender, withdrawal our forces from Chulak or end the campaign in our favor in swift and quick manner."

Lee sighed, "As much as I hate to say it, but I have to agree with the Commandant here. It's the only way we can win."

"How many units do we have completed?" asked General Ravi Singh, the Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and O'Neill's direct subordinate.

"Three dozen," answered O'Neill.

"Will it be enough to achieve the result that we need?"

"It's a stretch but I believe that yes it could do so," stated Johnson calmly.

"Okay. Assuming that we use the devices and the remaining Ori forces are either dead or have surrendered, what is stopping Adria from sending those reinforcements to wipe out Chulak?" asked Hastings.

"Those reinforcements will be occupied elsewhere," stated the Marine.

"How?" asked Hastings. "Although the Ori do have a fragile hold on their territory, if they wanted to turn Chulak into glass they could do so easily albeit at a high cost as if that were to happen, many would be destroyed by the Ancient Superweapon on Dakara possibly causing the Ori and the Jaffa to go MAD," he said using the term that was familiar to all the men in the room as everyone of them had served in the Cold War.

"We'll have to launch Operation Fortitude early."

"Are you insane?" asked the Admiral. "While I do have the trained crews, I don't have the amount of ships for them to operate."

"You do have those vaunted Asgard cruisers do you not?" asked Geng.

"Yes but that's besides the point. With the majority of the Fleet deployed outside Sol, who's going to stay and guard the Sol System? With no offense to my colleague in green but with the construction of Orbital Weapons Platform network around Earth barely started and many of the Fortresses still in the planning stage, not to mention the plans for in depth _system_ defense, the Navy has taken up the lions share of defending Sol. With most of the Fleet gone, we'll be vulnerable to attack."

"How many ships could be spared for this operation?"

"About thirty or so vessels at the maximum although if it were up to me I'd wouldn't send any. We just don't have the assets to do so."

"Can we crank out more ships?"

"Well sir at the moment, we have 30 of our 200 yards operational. With our space elevators finally operational, the rest will be operational in a couple of weeks after their completion date.

"However at his moment, the only ship plans we have available are the Buenos Aires Destroyer, the Daedalus class battlecruiser, although the name is very deceiving as it is more of a jack of all trades vessel, the Montana class Battleship and the Bolivar class Supercarrier. At the moment our Navy is too many capital warships in comparison to our number of frigates and destroyers that at the moment numbers zero as the only destroyers we have are under construction. Therefore I suggest that we focus our Naval construction efforts to destroyers and frigates when the plans are complete to increase our numbers as well as to supplement the battle line."

"How long will it take?"

"Six to eight months sir."

"That long?" asked O'Neill unfamiliar with Naval construction times.

"Sir," stated the Admiral, "a destroyer in today's Navy is around 200 meters long, and has a mass of over twenty thousand tons, holds a crew around 300 to 400 personnel and costs around a half a billion credits per unit. It used to take two to three years even in wartime conditions to build its ocean going equivalent with pre war technology. The fact that due to advanced construction technology we have been able to cut the build time by more than half is a Godsend in and unto itself."

"So if we devote the rest of our yards, we'll have 170 more ships in our Navy?"

"More like 340 sir," stated the Admiral, shocking O'Neill. He continued to explain, "the standard Terran space yard is 400 meters long sir, long enough to build a cruiser or two smaller ships. In addition, there are about ten specialized yards of much longer length that are designed and dedicated to build our Battleships and Supercarriers although our regular yards are designed to be modular and thus can be attached to one another if need be to allow more capital ships to be built at the cost of having a smaller amount of destroyers, frigates and corvettes being built at the same time."

"When can we get started?"

"Well at the moment, we only have one elevator operational, allowing us to have a total of 90 maybe 100 active yards at the most total, with all three operational by the end of April, we'll have the capability to operate all 200 yards with ease. So we're realistically looking at 120 to 140 Destroyers and Frigates not 340. But if the Minister gives the order, we can start construction in a week."

"Its still better than the 70 or so ships we have at the moment," remarked the Commandant.

"In addition, with the new force structure, we'd have to alter the plans for the Operation."

"In what way?"

"Well the original plan intended for around a hundred or so ships to be permanently devoted to long term deployments in a local area. However given the fact that we have less than fifty percent of the original force, we're going to have to plan the entire operation all over again. We're going to have to focus on quick raids on a few vital targets with a lot more Special Operations support than we originally intended."

"Can SOCOM handle it?" asked O'Neill, who was a former US Air Force Special Tactics Officer before he joined the SGC.

"It will be difficult, but I think we can do so," said a new voice, belonging to General Ian Ross, the General in command of the Terran Federal Republic's Special Operations Command or SOCOM for short.

While the head of SOCOM was not a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, they would be foolish for him not to be present. Whereas SOCOM was officially a Unified Combatant Command it was also known as the fifth and unofficial branch of the Armed Forces. Although the Special Forces, the Army's Special Assault Service, the Navy's SEAL Teams, the Space Force's Special Tactics Teams and the Marine Corps Force Recon Units among other formations that were not to be mentioned to anyone without the highest level of security clearance and the need to know, were property of their parent branches, this only was a matter of fact on paper. SOCOM was responsible for their day-to-day administration and it not the individual branches set the standards, recruited personnel, and made sure that they were at full capability.

He continued, "I've got over two thousand Special Operations personnel deployed behind enemy lines at the moment and I can assure you that we can get the job done. However a lot of them are going to need extraction as many of our units were originally equipped for long term reconnaissance and observation not an assault behind enemy lines."

"You can count on the Navy to get your men out, General," promised the Admiral.

"Do we agree in general on this course of action?" The position of Chairman of the Joint Chiefs meant that O'Neill was the Professional Head of the Armed Forces and was the senior Military Advisor to the President. While O'Neill could present the proposed plan without the consent without the approval of the rest of the Joint Chiefs, as it was well within his rights to do so, it was always good to build consensus amongst his fellow Officers.

"_Da_," stated the head of the Space Force.

"Yes, but with serious reservations," replied, the CNO.

"Agreed," said the Chief of Staff of the Army.

"I share the same beliefs as the Admiral," stated the Vice Chairman.

"Affirmative."

"I have to agree."

O'Neill sighed. "I'll present the plan to the President and the rest of the National Security Council tomorrow morning then. My God or whoever the hell is out there help us all."

**2/9 Infantry Headquarters**

"Dammit!" yelled Sanders to no one in particular, his hands crumpling the requisitions receipt into a small ball. Things were not going his way he fumed.

First off, due to a clerical error, instead of getting 7.62mm x 51mm ammunition for his designated marksmen and his sniper's rifles, he had gotten 7.62mm x _39_mm that was designed for the AK-47 and was completely incompatible with the M110 and MSG-90 rifles used respectively. This meant that his marksmen and snipers supply of ammunition dangerously low and would render them combat ineffective as they would not be able to use their specially weapons as they were capable of killing the enemy at a much farther range than the weapons used by the rest of his infantrymen. Thus, preventing them from killing more Ori warriors before they could engage his men. Even though supply was going to get the right ammunition as quickly as possible it also presented another problem. Since there were no AKs in his battalion or any weapon for that matter that used the said caliber it meant that he was now the proud owner of 5000 rounds of ammunition that could only be used as paperweights, albeit poor ones.

Second, while the arrival of the Pangarans meant that he had another company of troops in his battalion, it also meant that he had just inherited another massive headache. While the Terrans mainly used military equipment that was primarily of American origin, due to its large availability in numbers and its quality (although this was to be supplanted by new equipment and gear that utilized newly acquired technologies designed and made by Defense Contractors across the planet although the majority was either still on the drawing boards, the prototype phase or just coming off the production lines), the gear that the Pangarans used was obtained via military aid by the Terran Federal Government and was of European and mostly German make.

Even though European and American weapon systems were somewhat interchangeable due to close coordination via NATO during the Cold War, there were still some noticeable differences. For example, the ex-German Marders used by the Pangarans had an autocannon that used 20mm ammunition while the rest of the battalion's Bradley's used 25mm. This meant that Sanders rather than having just one system he had to worry about had two parallel systems that did exactly same job and needed to be maintained, stretching the already strained logistics system on Chulak. And that was just one of many differences in equipment.

And that wasn't the last of it. Even though the Pangarans were responsible for maintaining their own forces it only applied on paper. In reality, the Pangarans were completely reliant on the Terrans. The Pangaran infrastructure even after extensive assistance was similar to that of 1950's Earth although it was a step above the World War I era infrastructure that it started out with. Although in all due fairness, a forty-year leap in technology and infrastructure in just two years was pretty incredible. Due to the constraints on their infrastructure, the Pangarans were not able to maintain their vehicles and the rest of their equipment.

Sanders didn't mind the added the responsibility of taking care of another Company under his command, after all they were _his_ men now, no matter if they were part of a different nation and thus he would take care of them. However what he _did_ mind was the fact that he didn't have the adequate resources to do that task that he was assigned.

At the Battalion level and above, the officer in charge was assigned a staff to help him or her run the day-to-day operations, as there was no way in hell one person could run a unit with a minimum of over five hundred or so personnel effectively. When the 2/9 along with the rest of the 2nd Infantry Division, had been deployed to Chulak, then-Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins had a full staff of almost seventy soldiers directly under his command to assist him in what ever he needed to run the Battalion effectively. However as the 2/9 kept on fighting the Ori, casualties began to mount and slowly but surely the staff began to dwindle as many were transferred to the line companies in order to replace combat losses. By the time Sanders took command, over half of the Staff was either transferred or dead. The attack on battalion Headquarters further reduced the staff down to less than twenty.

The fact that his staff was reduced in number and that he and his staff had to file twice as many requisition forms to keep the battalion operating smoothly caused he and his staff massive amounts of additional grief. Due to the lack of personnel across the board, Sanders had ordered his line company commanders to help out in administrative duties. While this wasn't popular by a long shot, as the line commanders didn't like having even more work to do it was the only way to keep the battalion running in an effective manner.

If one of Captain Reth's men broke their rifle and needed parts to fix it or a replacement, it wasn't the Pangaran Army who would pick up the slack but the Terran Army. While Reth could in fact file a requisition to the Pangaran Army, it would be automatically sent to the Terran Army, as the Pangaran Army didn't have the parts that he needed. To save time, Sanders had told Reth tell him what he needed and he would file the reports directly to the Terran Army as the faster they got the equipment that they needed the better. However while this was beneficial in the long run it was a bitch in the short run, as he had to file twice as many requisition forms.

"I assume that the magazine wells are not arriving?" asked Captain Masters.

"You damn right they aren't," replied Sanders. He pointed to the paper clutched in his hands. "According to this paper here, they won't be arriving until next week at the earliest."

Even though the G36 and the M4A2 were both built and designed by the same Company, Heckler and Koch, they both used different magazines. The M4A2 used the more numerous and older NATO STANAG magazines while the G36 used a newer efficient magazine that was designed in house by Heckler and Koch and was only compatible with the G36.

Heckler and Koch knew that since the G36 used different magazines, making joint operations between states that used the G36 and those who used STANAG magazines difficult. The designers decided to make the magazine wells of the G36 modular allowing the standard magazine well to be removed in the field for a magazine well that would accept STANAG magazines.

However unfortunately for the men and women on Chulak and especially the Pangarans, new magazine wells for a rifle only used by a select few weren't classified as a high priority by supply compared to the 8th Army's demand for ammunition, replacement vehicles and other more essential items.

"We did get the ammunition that we requested right?"

"Except for the 7.62 NATO ammunition for our snipers and marksmen we got the amount that we wanted," Sanders replied. "However even though we got the number of rounds that we requested, the majority of them are not armor piercing rounds that we requested and instead received standard ball rounds instead."

"Damn," replied Masters.

When the 8th Army was first deployed, many soldiers noticed that even though the Ori were falling in larger numbers than they were against the Jaffa, it took at least one or two three round bursts or 20 of their magazines to kill them as their armor, while primitive was sufficient enough to deflect 5.56 NATO ammunition. In response Field Commanders began to request armor piercing ammunition as

**White House**

"General O'Neill," said President Hayes as soon as O'Neill had taken his seat at the conference table, "What plans have you and the rest of the Joint Chiefs come with?"

"Mr. President, the Joint Chiefs and I have proposed a two front operation."

"Two fronts?" asked Ombutu skeptically.

"Yes Mr. Vice President."

"Why?" asked Suarez.

"Why don't we listen to General O'Neill's proposals before we begin critiquing it," stated the President. "General please start describing your plan when you are ready."

"In order to guarantee that we are victorious against the Ori on Chulak, we not only have to defeat the remaining forces on the ground, which by the way still outnumber our own forces in a significant margin, but in additional we have keep Adria from sending reinforcements to Chulak which if that were to happen would completely negate our gains on the ground," O'Neill explained.


End file.
